


Maybe this time

by Miliz



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Eventual Romance, F/F, Family Feels, Fluff and Smut, Girl Penis, Girl Penis Emma Swan, Magic Cock, Post-Canon, Pregnancy, Pregnant Evil Queen | Regina Mills, Sexual Content, Smut, Swan-Mills Family
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-03-14
Updated: 2019-10-23
Packaged: 2019-11-17 17:58:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 28,494
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18103550
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Miliz/pseuds/Miliz
Summary: After the curses are broken, things in Storybrooke finally seem to settle down into a small-town way of life. Emma is pleased with her job, with having her parents close, with her baby brother and with Friday night dinners over the Mills' house. She doesn't realize this deep feeling that something is missing until Regina announces she wants to have another child - and asks Emma to be the donor. Together, she argues, they've never failed. Though at first the idea sounds crazy, Emma soon realizes Henry is all grown-up, and that she missed too much to let this opportunity also slip away. She doesn't want to be a donor, doesn't want to let go of another kid - but there are many things she does want. And maybe this time they can do things just right.This is a post-canon OUAT fic. Not an AU and not an omegaverse, but still g!p Emma.





	1. South

**Author's Note:**

> Hi, gals.  
> This is not an omegaverse, I hope you'll forgive me for that. haha Emma still has a cock, though, so it's not all lost! And yes, Emma also had Henry... I don't know how magic cocks work, let's just roll with it!  
> I hope you enjoy this - it's actually a reunion of all my favorite fic plots that I never got to write, but well, now I did. It won't be long at all, maybe three chapters, but they are big ones. Let me know what you think! :)

“Henry, eat your desert properly.”

“I’m eating it.”

“It’s not meant to be _inhaled_ ,” Regina scolded as the boy stuffed another spoon of pie in his mouth and swallowed it down with a sip of water.

“I’m late,” He justified. “Gretel’s waiting for me.”

“Then you shouldn’t make plans with your friends when you know you have our Friday night dinner.”

“ _Mom_.”

“Let him go,” Emma said, suppressing a grin as Henry stood up in a hurry. Gretel wasn’t simply a _friend_ , about that she was pretty sure.

“You shouldn’t condone this kind of behavior,” Regina replied. “He has to learn to honor his commitments.”

“ _Mom_ ,” Henry whined again. “I’m trying to honor a commitment right now, and you’re holding me back.” He leaned in to kiss her on the cheek, and Regina glanced at him sideways.

“Be back by ten.”

“Ten? Even Cinderella had until midnight.”

“Well, and look how it turned out for her,” The woman retorted, and Henry looked up to Emma asking silently for help.

“I’m sure eleven would be fine?” Emma ventured, earning a glare over Regina’s glass of water.

“Not a minute later,” She gave, and Henry smiled, placing a quick kiss on Emma’s cheek before heading to the door. “Be safe!”

“I will!”

“Have fun!”, Emma added as he disappeared down the hallway.

“I will!” His voice echoed a moment before the front door slammed shut.

“ _Have fun_? Really?”

“Relax,” Emma rolled her eyes. “He’s almost seventeen.”

“It doesn’t help me to relax the fact you gave him that yellow death trap you used to drive, and now we have a motorized teenager around town.”

“He’s a responsible kid,” Emma argued, finishing her pie too. “I didn’t get to give him much, and I’m sure you’d love to buy him a Prius or something, but that bug has history, ok? I wanted him to have it.”

“I can only imagine how touching is the history of the backseat where he was conceived,” Regina drawled, standing up to pile the plates.

“Oh, for God’s sake, that’s gross.” Emma grabbed the glasses and followed the woman into the kitchen. “He was conceived in the _front_ seat.”

Regina set the plates in the sink and stared at Emma over her shoulder, in part trying to determine if the woman was teasing her, in part remembering just how restricted was the space in that yellow bug. “Please don’t share.”

Emma chuckled, approaching the sink. “Scoot. Let me do the dishes.”

“You don’t have to.”

“It’s fine, you cooked. I’ll finish it up in a minute and I’ll be on my way, too.”

Regina nodded briefly. “I’m sure you have your appointments as well.”

“Yeah, with Netflix and a glass of wine,” She said, soaping the plates. Regina considered her for a moment.

“I’ve been meaning to have a conversation with you. If you have a moment, we can have a digestif after you finish here.”

“Sounds serious…”

“It’s nothing concerning,” Regina assured. “Not urgent either. We can talk another day.”

“No, it’s alright,” Emma glanced at her. “We can talk.”

Regina helped her with the dishes in an easy silence. Friday night dinners had been a thing for over a year now. At first, Henry set them up for it, eager for some sort of regular family tradition. Then it just became routine; something to look forward to. Sometimes, they played cards afterwards, sometimes they watched a movie – lately, Henry ran away as fast as he could, and Emma helped to clean up before following him out. She didn’t think that routine would hold up for much longer, and she was already starting to miss it.

“So?” She asked, drying her hands on a dishcloth and eyeing Regina.

“At my office?” The woman didn’t wait for an answer before turning on her heels and crossing the kitchen. Emma sighed a little before putting the cloth down and following her steps.

When she entered Regina’s office the woman was at the sideboard fixing them both a glass of bourbon. Emma walked to the couch and let herself fall into it. That was Regina’s territory, and she brought people there so she had field leverage in any battle she wanted to fight. If it could be avoided, Emma would never show just how much it worked; that wide, tidy, cool room, the shelves, the great desk, the pastels - it told a story about Regina’s upbringing, the education and the money, how put together she supposedly was, how far above the commoners. Once upon a time, it intimidated the shit out of Emma, so she purposely made herself relax against the couch.

“You think Henry is dating this girl, Gretel?” Regina asked, still facing the sideboard.

“Yeah, I do.”

“I hope a second baby won’t come out of that old bug.”

“He’s smarter than I was,” Emma said as the woman approached her with the drink. “But I guess we could have The Talk with him. Is that what you wanted to discuss?”

“No, no, not quite.” Regina sat down on her armchair, nursing her bourbon for a moment before sipping it. “He’ll be off to college in a couple of years.”

“I know. I’ll miss him so much.”

Regina nodded slowly. “This house feels so quiet when he’s out.” She looked around as if already mapping the empty spaces he’d leave. “You think he’ll come back for the holidays? Vacations?”

“Of course. He’ll miss us too.”

“I don’t know. Part of me thinks when he breaks free from here he’ll never look back.”

“He’ll miss you, Regina. He’s your son, he loves you.”

“Yes, sure,” She made a dismissive gesture. “I know he does, it’s Henry, he’s always had love to spare. But we are not… I was always… too harsh on him, maybe, when he was a child. I loved him, but I couldn’t make him happy. I didn’t know how.”

Emma frowned. “You did your best.”

“He likes you better. Don’t try to deny it.”

“Well, it’s easier, I wasn’t here for the hard part. He fantasized about the mother I would have been.”

“You are a good mother,” Regina said solemnly, gulping the bourbon again.

“Ok, now I’m worried. What is it? Is Zelena back? Do I have another dragon to face? Have you pissed off my mother again?”

Regina rolled her eyes. “What I meant to say is that I think it works, now. Henry is happy. I think I could also do better, now.” She paused. “I’ve frequently found myself wishing I’d have a second chance.”

Emma studied her for a moment, the straight posture against the backrest, the perfect-fitting suit. She’d seen Regina crying, and on her knees, and disheveled and even _dying_ , but then the woman would come back and do this - erase the sharp edges, the hates and flaws and fears, and show only the polished, shining version. It was scary, and it must be lonesome too. “Everybody wants a second chance,” She said after a moment. “But I think we’re good with do-overs in this town.”

“I don’t mean a do-over,” Regina said. “I think I want another child.” This time she was staring right at Emma as she said it. She watched the crease on Emma’s brow deepen, then relax, replaced by a sort of surprise. A curious grin twisted those lips and she brought the cup to her mouth to cover it.

“Really? After all this time?”

Regina shrugged. “I have been considering the idea for a while now.”

“Well… Henry would be thrilled to have a sibling, of that I’m sure.” Emma tapped her fingers against the glass, soft, quick, uneasy. “Want me to look up a few adoption agencies for you? I mean, I wouldn’t use Mr. Gold’s services again, if I were you.”

“I won’t need one,” Regina replied calmly. “I want to carry the baby myself.”

“Oh.” Emma frowned. “Can you still actually... do that?”

“What-- Of course I do! How old do you think…?” Regina stammered in her anger.

“Well, you _were_ there when I was born…” Emma teased, and was rewarded by the redness that took over the woman’s face.

“I’m not… Time was frozen!” The flush on her cheeks darkened a shade when Emma started laughing. “Oh, I’m glad I amuse you, Emma. I’m glad such a delicate, serious wish of my heart is a laughing stock for you.”

“Come on, don’t be dramatic,” Emma giggled. “I think it’s great, really. I think… I mean, pregnancy is a shit show, but somehow… I think you’d enjoy it.”

Regina was still blushed and annoyed, but she managed to ease herself into her composed posture again. “I am not sharing all this with you for your amusement,” She said sharply. “I do have something to ask, although right now I am reconsidering the brightness of my idea.”

Emma dragged herself to the edge of her seat and leaned forward, eyes and ears focused now. “I didn’t mean to upset you. Tell me what I can do for you.”

Regina leveled her stare, eyes dark and serious, daring Emma to make light of it, to crack a joke, as she said, “You can get me pregnant.”

Against the expectations, Emma didn’t react at first. She narrowed her eyes, a puzzled look around her brow, as if she was weighting the chances of it being a prank. She had pretty eyes, Regina noticed, not for the first time. One of the only things about her that didn’t remind her of Mary Margaret nor David at all. They were too peculiar, too untrusting and too clear to be anyone else’s. She quite liked Emma’s eyes.

“I’m not sure I follow,” Emma said at last, shifting on the couch.

“I’m not asking you to be a mother,” Regina explained carefully. “I am merely asking for a help in the conception. Just a little semen, to be very specific.”

Emma blushed, shifting again, uncomfortable. “Just that, huh?”

“Well, yes.”

“But… why? Why _me_? There are hundreds of agencies with big catalogues for that, so you can choose someone with good health, a great head of hair and pretty eyes.”

Regina snorted at that, making Emma squirm, raising an eyebrow. “What?”

“Nothing,” She said, finishing her drink. “Of course I have considered all my options.”

“So?”

“This could never work. We are not from _here_ , Emma,” The woman argued. “Storybrooke already works like a magnetic field for the inlanders. Or do you think the increase on tourism since the barriers were broken are due to Granny’s special hot sauce?”

“What does that...?”

“I cannot take the risk of influencing things on this land with a bond as strong as bloodline,” She explained a bit impatient, as if Emma was half witted. “God only knows the kind of destiny or division I could create by doing something like this. I am sure I would attract _something_. It wouldn’t go unnoticed, I am too powerful.”

“Also humble,” Emma added, earning a glare.

“Humility wouldn’t change the facts.”

Swan sighed, but she couldn’t really argue with that. She had grown up aparted, lonely and loose in the world, and yet the first time she had experienced love it had been with Neal, someone from the same homeland. And of their love came Henry, who eleven years later would be responsible for bringing Emma back to break the curse. A bunch of very unlikely developments, and still they had all happened inexorably. Regina had a point.

“Ok,” She conceded. “So your choices are narrowed, but it still doesn’t explain why me. I’m sure you have a handful of eager suitors that would jump at the opportunity to father your baby.”

Regina leaned in to prop her glass on the center table, looking annoyed. It was true that half the town was still very wary around her, and the other half hadn’t completely forgiven her yet. But not being afraid nor being angry prevented them from falling into her bed. Regina had a kind of allurement most people would consider hard to resist. Of course she was discreet about it, but it was a small town and Emma heard things.

Anyway, the woman didn’t even bother denying it. “None of them would offer the necessary balance,” She said instead.

“What does that mean?”

“You _know_ what it means.”

“I don’t…” She started, but then it sort of dawned on her. Regina glanced at her face and averted her eyes again, deciding suddenly she needed a refill.

Emma looked through the window, feeling undeniably uncomfortable for the first time that night. Sure, she was aware that was a serious conversation and that the stakes were high for Regina. Then again, the woman had a way of putting things that made it look like she was on top even when she was the one with a plead. So that moment was the very first, really, when she made herself vulnerable.

There was a shadow in her, sometimes faint, almost gone, sometimes glimmering behind her eyes, ready to show itself again. So much had happened, a thousand tiny redemption arcs, and then they settled in that small town way of life, and most of the time now Emma forgot the struggle.

Regina never forgot the struggle.

“You are too powerful,” Emma whispered almost to herself. Regina was lowering herself into the armchair again, another shot of bourbon shimmering in the crystal glass.

“Yes,” She nodded. “I suppose I dreamed about a traditional family, about a true-love born child, as much as anyone.” Regina sipped her drink. “But that wasn’t in storage for me, and I don’t intend to let it be on my way.”

“But I am a…”

“Yes. And a powerful one too.”

“But _humble_ ,” She pointed out, and this faint grin tugged the corner of Regina’s mouth.

“I don’t expect you to agree at once,” She replied, resting against the chair and offering Emma her business look. “But I am sure we can reach an agreement.”

“I hope you’re not talking about money.”

“Oh, Emma, I have learned a few things about what makes you tickle.”

“Really?” Emma raised an eyebrow.

“I could help finance that project you have for homeless children,” Regina ventured. “Or maybe we could start a scholarship for kids who grew up in the foster system. And what about I agree with Christmas Eve at your place for… two years? I will even bring the apple pie you like so much. No poison, my special treat for you.”

“Tempting,” Emma chuckled. “But please shut up.”

Regina grinned, crossed her legs and waited.

“You should do all of these things, if you really can, you know. Help people.”

“I can say the same about you in this situation.”

Emma sighed. “This is… I really wasn’t expecting it.”

“You don’t have to answer now,” Regina said firmly. “I don’t want you to answer now. You have a thick head, and it’s good to let all the information sink in.”

“You’re not helping your case, woman.”

“My case is simple: I want a child, I want it deeply enough to bring myself to have this conversation. I don’t ask more of you than the help I just required. I will never ask more of you. The child won’t need to know. It’s a simple favor, when you think of it.”

“It’s not a simple favor.”

Regina shrugged slowly. “Alright, maybe not, then. But if there is anyway I can make you agree with it, or repay you, I am open to it.”

Emma sighed deeply. “I’ll think about it, ok?”

“I appreciate it.”

“I guess I’ll go now.”

“To Netflix and wine,” Regina recalled.

“Yeah… You know, some people just want a simple life,” She teased, standing up.

Regina grinned. “Liar.”

“ _Not helping_ ,” Emma huffed. “I’ll show myself out.”

“Goodnight, Emma.”

* * *

Funny things about babies: they were small, and mostly loud, and Emma never paid them much attention… until recently. It seemed like now they were popping out of the earth, like Storybrooke was living its own baby-boom. Ok, alright, so maybe Baby Neal had been around for the last five years, but now he was looking at her funny. Wasn’t he?

“He’s not looking at you funny,” Mary Margaret huffed as Emma narrowed her eyes at the kid. He was running around the playground with his two best friends from preschool, and a little too distracted to look at his big sister in any way, to be honest.

“I had never noticed how many toddlers there are in this town. Have you?”

“Well, I’m mayor now, I’ve kissed a bunch of them last year during campaign.”

“Fair enough,” Emma tossed a popcorn in her mouth. “I can’t believe I let Regina mess with my head like this.”

“And I can’t believe I am going to say this, but I don’t think it was an evil plan this time, sweetie.” Mary Margareth stole a popcorn from Emma’s bag and turned to follow Neal with her eyes again.

“It was _something_ ,” Emma argued. “And it’s even weirder that she never brought it up again. I mean, I could convince myself it was all a wild dream. Maybe that’s what she wants?”

“Maybe she’s just giving you some space to think. _Neal, don’t eat that!_ ”

“I’m not sure I need that much space to think. I mean, it’s a crazy idea, right? There’s not a good reason why I would…” She trailed off, stuffing more popcorn in her mouth.

“If there really wasn’t, you’d be back to her with an answer by now,” MM pointed out, bringing her attention back to her oldest child. “It’s alright to consider it, Emma.”

“I’m not _considering_ it! Oh, come on, don’t look at me like that, it’s so annoying, and Neal got it from you,” She complained, making her mother snicker.  

“You know, I understand her,” Mary Margaret said quietly. “There isn’t a day I don’t wish I had a second chance with you, to raise you, to care for you.”

“I know that, mom.”

“Neal helps to soothe it a little, I suppose,” She beamed at the little boy yelping down the slide. “But I’m not sure I’m stopping at him either.”

“Really?”

“Why would I?” She shrugged. “You two and your father are the most beautiful things in my life. Is it too ambitious to want even more? Of beauty and love and happiness?”

“Why everything has to get so poetic with you?” Emma rolled her eyes. “You should write some self help book, it would be a hit.”

“I’ll be satisfied if I manage to help you.”

“Cute,” Emma bumped her shoulder onto hers, and MM hugged her briefly.

“Talking about cute…” The woman pointed her chin at across the playground, where Emma spotted two hooded figures walking hand in hand towards the beach. “I guess they are officially a thing now.”

“I guess so,” Emma sighed, following the plaid back of Henry’s jacket. Gretel laid her head on his shoulder for a moment as they walked away, and the boy turned his face to kiss her hair absently. “God, he grew up so fast.” _And I missed most of it._

Once and again she wondered how it would have been if she hadn’t given him up. If she had found a way to keep him, to raise him, if she had taught him how to walk, to talk, to make pancakes. She didn’t think about this a lot - first because she couldn’t fathom it, then because she knew everything was part of a plot so much bigger than their individual lives that it didn't matter anymore. But once and again, yes, and - ok, alright - even more in the last couple weeks.

Late at night Emma stared at the ceiling and thought about that conversation, about Regina’s reasoning, and the ironclad wish under it. And in those nights Emma found herself wanting, too. She felt a little bad for it, as if she was envying the bright new toy her school mate was aiming to get. But at the same time, wasn’t this school mate asking for her help to get it? Would it really be so far fetched to think maybe she could play with it too?

_Jesus, I’m bad at metaphors._

“Wouldn’t it just be too weird if--”

“No,” Mary Margareth interrupted. And as Emma opened her mouth to accuse her of not even knowing what the question was, she went on: “You already have one kid together, why not two?”

Emma closed her mouth again, then took a deep breath. “I guess part of me was still hoping to have something like you and dad have.”

“A family is a family,” MM said gently. “The shape of it doesn’t matter. And it won’t be in the way of true love, when it comes.”

“ _If_ it comes.”

 _But that wasn’t in storage for me, and I don’t intend to let it be on my way_ , Regina had said. And be damned if Emma was.

“ _When_ ,” Mary Margareth insisted. “Don’t argue with your mother. _Neeeal, don’t eat t--_ I’ll be right back, sweetie.” And she marched down the playground in that way only a mother trying to stop her son from biting a really old, full of sand jelly worm knew how.

* * *

A whole month passed. Summer was starting to wave Storybrooke goodbye. They reunited for four Friday night dinners (the last one had held a special, blonde teenager guest). Life continued its course, and babies stopped looking at Emma funny. Still, it took her awhile to gather the nerve to resume a particular conversation.

Regina raised her eyes from the screen ahead of her when the knock on the door echoed. She took off her glasses as her stare settled on the woman by the threshold.

“I believe Mary Margaret has already left for the day,” She informed promptly.

“Yeah, I know. We had dinner,” Emma replied, stepping in without asking permission. “She told me you might still be here.”

Mary Margaret could be the mayor now, but Regina still occupied a high position on the administration. The princess was great at handling people, but not so much handling money and bureaucracy, as it turned out. It was a Wednesday evening, and the Town Hall corridors were silent and empty.

“Why are you working so late?” She asked. Regina’s eyes followed her, inquisitive, as Emma settled on a chair in front of her desk.

“Henry wasn’t going to be home for dinner, so I thought of getting ahead with the paperwork.” The woman dropped her glasses on the table softly and leaned back on her presidential chair. “Why are _you_ here?”

“I tried to call you, but it went straight to voicemail.”

Regina looked around and grabbed her phone, pressing a few buttons only for the screen to remain dark. “It must have run out. Something happened?”

“No, nothing. I just… wanted to talk to you about… about that thing we talked about…”

“Oh,” Regina said, propping her elbows on the armrests and joining her hands in front or her chest. “It took you awhile.”

“Well, you know me and my thick head.”

The woman rolled her eyes, but couldn’t argue much. “So?”

“I… yeah, I… agree,” Emma said, hoping the words wouldn’t betray how dry her mouth felt. Regina’s eyebrows shot up and for a moment she just blinked at Emma.

“Really?”

“What?” Emma asked, then snorted. “You didn’t think I’d say yes, did you?”

“I wasn’t very optimistic. It’s been a month.”

“It was too big of a deal for me to rush into a decision. I wanted to consider everything, ok? And I… think I did.”

“And you agree,” She repeated, wary.

“Yes. _But_.” Emma intervened. “There is one condition.”

“Of course.” Regina nodded, straightening herself on the chair, pushing away any surprise or anxiety a normal person might have showed.

“I don’t wanna be a donor,” Emma started carefully. “I want to be a mother too.”

“A mother?”

“Yeah. I mean, it’s Storybrooke, it’s not like we would be able to hide it from the kid anyway.”

“We could certainly find a…”

“I don’t want to find a way. I don’t want to give up another child. I want the whole deal, you know?” Emma paused, wetting her lips. “The things you said the other night? I think about it too. Henry is all grown up, and he talks like you, he likes your type of music.”

“Only because you have awful taste.”

“I can’t have another child who thinks Nickelback is an old type of coin, Regina.”

“Are you trying to make me back away?” The woman arched an eyebrow.

“No.” Emma chuckled. “I’m saying I think we work well as co-parents. I think you are right - we balance things out.”

Regina studied her in silence for a long moment, as Emma fought the urge to squirm on her chair. God, it was so annoying how Regina could turn every situation in her favor. Emma wasn’t the one that had to defend her case, now was she?

“Say that again,” Regina said at last.

“I think we are going to work well together because we are different, but we-”

“Not that part,” She interrupted. Emma stared at her for a second then let out a loud, annoyed sigh.

“I said you were right.”

“And you want to have another child with me.”

“Yes.”

“And I was right.”

“I’m going to leave now.”

* * *

“Oh, great, I’m starving,” Emma welcomed, relieving Regina from the pizza box and gesturing for the woman to come inside.

“I hope you won’t tell Henry I agreed to pizza on a weeknight,” The woman said, closing the door behind her and getting rid of her coat and scarf.

“Friday night doesn’t count as a weeknight.”

“We won’t have pizza for our Friday dinners and I refuse to engage in this discussion again,” Regina ended, hanging her coat as Emma laid the pizza on the kitchen counter.

“What do you think he’s having at Marcel’s?” Emma grinned. “Care for a beer?”

“Yes, thank you. And I don’t mind what he eats on a sleepover, I’m not unreasonable.”

“Absolutely not,” Emma mocked, opening two bottles on the sink and handing one to Regina.

“Can I have a glass for that?” She asked, raising an eyebrow as Emma sipped from the bottleneck.

“Oh. Yeah, sure. Here.”

“Thank you.”

“I’m guessing you want a plate for the pizza?”

“Yes, Emma. I’m not unreasonable, but I’m not a savage either.”

Emma exhaled loudly before grabbing a couple of plates and silverware. Regina poured her beer carefully and served the pizza as if it was a quiche, frowning upon Emma picking up a loose olive with her fingers.

“Want some ketchup with that?”

“That’s why Italians don’t like North Americans.”

“What do you know, you’re not even from this land,” Emma argued.

“And _that’s_ why Latino Americans don’t like North Americans.”

Emma choked on her beer with a sudden laughter that brought a thin, satisfied grin to Regina’s lips.

“Sometimes you’re too smart for your own good, you know.”

“There’s no such a thing,” Regina affirmed. “But let’s drop the niceties…”

“I didn’t know we had picked them up.”

“...and get to the matter, shall we?”

“Ok,” Emma nodded, then took a long gulp from her beer. “I guess you thought about what I proposed, right?”

“Yes. And to be completely honest I do not find a good reason to oppose it.”

Emma propped the beer down again and stared at the woman in front of her, curious. She imagined Regina would come around to it at some point, but she didn’t truly guess the woman would go straight to the yes.

“What is it? Have you changed your mind?” She asked before Emma’s silence.

“No, I… I haven’t. It’s just… that was too easy.”

“I don’t see any reason to make this difficult. I know the mother you are to Henry, I understand where your desire comes from…”

“And?”

“These are good enough reasons for me to say yes.”

“Maybe, but they are not the true reasons,” Emma pressed.

Regina set down her tableware, the pizza half eaten, half forgotten on her plate, and brought the beer to her lips slowly. Emma didn’t rush her into it, because Regina always took her time with the truth. Other people, they’d need a moment to think of a lie, they’d hesitate and stall, but not Regina. She could lie through her teeth, never missing a beat, she could cry or laugh or be cruel or kind if she wanted to manipulate you into anything. But when she was quiet and cautious, she was thinking of a gainful way to deliver the truth.

“We never failed,” She whispered at last, making Emma lean forward as if she could listen to the words again, better, if she was closer.

“What do you mean?”

“All the times we worked together,” Regina explained, “we never failed. Not one time.”

Emma leaned back again, resting against the chair, trying to wrap her mind around what that was supposed to mean.

“It’ll be different with a kid, you know that, right?” She said, fingers tapping the counter. “There isn’t a clear goal with a kid, there isn’t a path and a complete success or a complete failure. It’s… much more complicated than that.”

“Of course I know that,” Regina huffed. “Still.”

Emma waited for more, but it didn’t come. Regina resumed eating her pizza, though not her heart nor her stomach seemed to be in it. Emma looked at her, bothered by the parts of that truth that were missing, by the words Regina had deemed too self-incriminating to voice.

“We’ll have to tell Henry,” She said casually. And that’s how Emma found out that in some deep part of them it was already irrevocable.

“That’s going to be fun.”

* * *

Henry entered the living room ahead of them and sat on the armchair by the fireplace, leaving the large couch for his moms to share. He propped his elbows on his knees and joined his fingertips in a regal way Emma was very familiar with.

“Mom,” He said, eyeing Emma as she settled on the couch, then turning to Regina, who propped her cup of tea on the center table. “and mom. May I start this conversation?”

Both women exchanged a glance, and Regina crossed her legs, attentive, while Emma mumbled, “Ahm… sure?”

Henry wasn’t a particularly unpredictable child; Emma usually knew well how to communicate with him. But his posture since they had called him from his bedroom had gone from startled to bored to solem, what was at least curious, and then he definitely surprised them by saying, “I know what you want to talk about.”

“Do you, now?” Regina said, hands resting on top of her crossed legs.

“Yes, I think so.” He nodded. “So let me start by saying that I am aware I’m only sixteen, and that some people might consider it too young to be in a relationship,” It was even more surprising that he glanced at _Emma_ as he said it. “But I want you to know I am not being frivolous about this. I really love Gretel.”

“How touching.”

“I also want you to have in mind that if we were on Fairytale Land, we would already be old enough to get married.”

“No, you _wouldn’t_ ,” Regina opposed hurriedly.

“That’s a lie and we both know it,” Henry dismissed her. “I could make Gretel my wife at a castle. She’d like that.”

“Oh, I don’t think so, kid,” Emma shook her head no. Jesus, she really had to reassess the idea of Henry not being unpredictable.

“Grandma and grandpa wouldn’t say no to true love.”

“Last time I checked, _I_ was the Queen, and I say you are _not_ old enough to get married.” The pitchy tone was clearly unintentional, but Emma couldn’t blame Regina for it.

Henry looked at both of them, then let out a deep, loud sigh, as if they were being difficult on purpose, and laid back on the armchair, rubbing the bridge of his nose. “Alright,” He said at last, as if after some great consideration. The whole theatricality of the affair was so much a trait of the Mills Family Emma couldn’t help a grin. “Maybe we are not ready to get married,” He conceded.

“It’s not a _maybe_ , Henry,” Regina hissed.

“But at least I’m sure you’ll understand that we might sleep together at some point,” He went on, unabashed.

The grin turned to a chuckle, and Emma rolled her eyes. “I see what you did here, kid. Well played.”

Henry looked at her like he had no idea what she was talking about, but there was an undeniable gleam of mischief behind his eyes.

“Henry,” Regina said, voice under control again, modulatedly tired of his script for this talk. “We are not prudes in this house. As long as you respect yours and Gretel’s time, that you do it for the right reasons and that you _use protection_ ,” Regina glanced at Emma, “we are not going to be unreasonable about it.”

“I resent that glance,” Emma muttered.

“Really?”

“And you say that, mom,” Henry went on, “but I’m not sure we see eye to eye about what it means to be unreasonable.”

“ _Really?_ ” Aaand the pitch was back. “How so?”

“You cursed an entire kingdom when you were grieving?” He ventured.

Regina’s eyes sparkled as she stood up. “That’s enough. I cannot talk to you like this.”

Emma grabbed the woman’s hand to prevent her from walking away and stared at the boy ahead of them. “That wasn’t cute, Henry,” She said, serious. “That’s not a subject for your mockery. Apologize to your mother.”

For the first time that night his confidence faltered and spots of color appeared on his cheeks. “Sorry, mom,” He said, low. “I didn't mean it.”

Regina remained still for a long moment, nostrils still flaring with indignation as Henry blushed harder at their joined disapproval. Finally the woman sat back again, the only concession she made, and silently. Her hand slipped away from Emma’s, only in its absence making Emma notice how warm it had been.

They all remained in a tense quietness until Emma leaned forward, sighing. “Well, though this conversation was enlightening in many ways, this really wasn’t what we wanted to talk to you about in the first place.”

“What?” Henry frowned. “And you couldn’t have told me this sooner?!”

“Honestly, kid, you didn’t give us the chance.”

Henry huffed, crossing his arms on his chest. “What is it, then?”

Emma glanced at the woman by her side, “Regina?”

The woman huffed too, before crossing her legs again and looking at Henry. “You know your mother and I love you dearly - although sometimes I can’t seem to recall why.”

“I apologized,” He whined.

“Be quiet. You already said enough,” Regina cut him. “We love you, and you will always be our little miracle. You changed both our lives.” By her side, Emma nodded dutifully.

“I feel like this shouldn’t make me this scared…”

“It really shouldn’t,” Emma said. “I think what your mother is trying to say is that, because of you, we feel like we can… do more, now. Do better. Try new things.”

“What _kind_ of new things?”

“We are considering having another child, Henry,” Regina said at last. “Together.”

“You’re _what_?”

“We both want it, and it seemed to work well with you, this… partnership?” Emma glanced at Regina, and the woman nodded her agreement.

“Come on, that was dumb luck,” Henry retorted. “I was in a lot of danger most of the time!”

“Well, that’s why I said the part about doing better.”

“Hope you meant _a lot_ better.”

“We are very critic tonight, aren’t we?” Regina drawled, dark eyes hard enough to make Henry squirm on his armchair.

“Are you guys… like, together now?”

“What? You mean like…?” Emma squirmed too.

“We are not a couple,” Regina clarified. “It is just a wish we share, and that we think we can make come true, if we work together.”

“It would be less awkward if you were a couple. Just saying.”

“Your suggestion will be brought to the administration, thank you,” Regina mocked, and Henry actually pouted.

“This could go wrong in so many ways…” He whispered.

“Henry, please--”

“No, don’t get me wrong,” He interrupted, suddenly grinning. “I already can’t wait.”

* * *

Emma was laughing when Regina entered Granny’s Diner, leaning over the balcony to punch Ruby’s shoulder with an easy intimacy Regina didn’t recall sharing with anyone in a long time. A cold hand clenched her stomach at the sight as the door closed behind her, a sickly tug on her guts that reminded her of a person she wasn’t anymore - most days, anyway.

Both women turned as the bell over the door announced her presence, silly beams still on their faces, and for some reason Regina couldn’t bring herself to compliment them, to be even polite. She glared at Emma - who was supposedly there to meet _her_ , not gossip with Ruby, but clearly hadn’t even gotten them a table yet - and crossed the diner until the far back, where she dropped her purse and sat down pointedly.

It wasn’t long before Swan followed her, though Regina was pretending to analyze their very limited menu and didn’t look up to greet her.

“Good night to you too,” Emma said, taking a seat across from her.

“I don’t understand why they keep the suggestion box at the counter when I have steadily suggested they broaden their salad menu for the past ten years, to no avail.” Regina dropped the card back on the table with disgust.

“Well, you know, they do have a wide list of burgers, and most of them come with salad, so there you have it.”

Regina stared at her with no sign of humor in those dark eyes and Emma exhaled. So it was going to be one of those nights.

“Tell me again why are we meeting here?”

“It’s neutral ground,” Emma repeated, laying both hands on the table as if it illustrated said ground. “You always seem to win the discussions in your office, somehow.”

“I’d be happy to go to your place…” The woman suggested, but Emma shook her head.

“Can’t do. You’d use it against me.”

“Oh, don’t worry, I can use your lack of organization habits against you from here, believe me,” Regina argued.

“I’m plenty organized-- Ah, thanks, Rubes.”

“I didn’t order anything yet,” Regina said as Ruby laid a steaming cup in front of her with a pot of hot milk on the side.

“I did,” Emma replied. “Fennel tea and milk? Isn’t that it?”

“Oh. Yes. Thank you. Thank you, Ruby.”

“No problem. Are you guys going to eat anything?”

“Maybe later?” Emma said at Regina, who nodded briefly.

“I’ll be here,” Ruby replied as if it was a grim fate, then walked away.

“Where were we?” Emma asked as Regina poured milk into her tea.

“You were admitting your house is very untidy.”

“I wasn’t,” She retorted. “But you made it clear that you think so giving me that Marie Kondo book for Christmas last year.”

“Which you’d benefit from reading.” She blew into the cup before tasting the tea. “If you can still find it in that place.”

“That’s an exaggeration.”

“You’re right. Your flat is too tiny for you to really be able to lose anything in there.”

“ _Ok_ ,” Emma muttered. “Guess we’re already discussing custody, then.”

At that Regina arched an eyebrow. “I hadn’t realized this was up for discussion.”

“Of course not. Typical.”

“You can’t be serious.” Regina laid her cup back again. “ _I_ will be the one breastfeeding. You work twenty-four hours shifts. You don’t have a spare room. _And you can’t cook._ ”

“Well, maybe you haven’t given me the right _cookbook_ yet,” Emma retorted, though it seemed she didn’t have much of a case there. She’d have to overdo it. “I don’t see the point in doing this to see my kid once in a while.”

“Oh, for God’s sake, we live in Storybrooke!” Regina observed. “You’ll see your child all the time.”

Emma shook her head. “No. No, I don’t want you to do everything alone again. I don’t wanna miss… the little things. I wanna be there.” Regina lowered her eyes to the fingers drumming incessantly at the table top, and Emma stopped it at once. “And it’ll be different for you this time, too. You’ll give birth, you’ll need time to recover. And we’ll both have other kid who’ll need attention too, no matter what _he_ says.”

Regina paused for a moment, shoulders relaxing slightly as she leaned back. “Move in with us, then,” She said slowly, as if testing the words. “For the first few months, I mean. We can introduce the baby to a proper family and share the responsibilities… After that, we’ll see.”

Emma exhaled and took a moment to sip her coffee. Not because she needed to give the idea much thought - she knew very well that was Regina compromising, and it actually made sense -, but because an easy win would leave the woman extra confident, and they still had many points to go through.

“I suppose I can manage that.”

“Good.” Regina nodded. “So that’s settled. Should we talk schools?”

“You know we skipped an important part, right?”

“What part?”

“Uhn, conception?” Emma said, whisking her phone from har jacket’s pocket. “I did some research, and we have a few options, but I’m not sure which…”

“You can’t possibly want to discuss this here,” Regina hissed, eyes roaming around as if someone might sneak in on them.

“Why not? Neutral ground, remember?” Emma couldn’t help but find amusing the color spurting on the woman’s face. “So, I guess we could to it at home? It would be easier, but the probabilities are against us.”

“Emma.”

“The only trustable clinic on the area is down in Bangor, and we’d have to go there quite a lot for a few weeks, what’s really inconvenient.”

“I suppose it is,” Regina whispered.

“Not to mention that it’s kinda pricey, and we don’t know if it’ll work on the first try.”

“Emma…”

“No, I don’t mean to be pessimistic, I just like to plan ahead,” She justified, rolling her notes on the phone. “So, I don’t know, I haven’t really reached a conclusion about what is the best way to go. We can try visit the clinic, maybe, talk to--”

“Or you can take me out for dinner and we get it over with.”

“What?” Emma looked up to find Regina holding the cup to her lips with both hands and staring at her over the rim. The woman sipped her beverage slowly, eyes never breaking the stare as Emma’s cheeks heated in turn.

“Don’t be a prude,” Regina said at last. “It’s a certified method; it has been working for humanity for millions of years.”

“Is this a prank?” Emma frowned.

Regina rolled her eyes. “I’m being practical. If you were to be a _donor_ , I wouldn’t suggest something like this, of course, but since it’s not the case anymore…” She straightened herself. “I don’t want to waste both of our times with failed attempts, with doctors and bureaucracy. And you know as well as I do that if we…” Regina looked around again, and her voiced dropped an octave. “If we _do_ this _together_ , it _will_ work.”

“Because we never failed,” Emma whispered. Regina consented.

“Unless, of course, you don’t think you can.”

“Wha-- Of course I _can_ do it.”

“Alright, then,” The woman nodded. “Make a nice reservation, will you? _Outside_ Storybrooke. In about twelve days would be the ideal.”

“Oh...ah...ok?”

“Good. Now. Schools?”

* * *

Regina approached the car silently enough to make Emma jump on the driver’s seat when she opened the door.

“Are you alright?” The woman asked, arching an eyebrow, still standing by the door. A cold wind blew outside, wavering Regina’s hair around the dark purple scarf that matched her dark burgundy lipstick. Except for those discrete points of color, she was all clad in black; a black cocktail dress, black tights, black overcoat.

“Yes, you just spooked me,” Emma mumbled. “All dark in the shadows.”

“Fearing for your heart?” Regina teased as she got in. Emma wasn’t, really, until that moment. Yet something about that unusual tone did make her heart skip a beat.

“I thought we weren’t allowed to joke about that.”

“You aren’t.” Regina put on the seatbelt and adjusted herself. “Shall we go?”

Emma snorted. “Sure. We're off.”

“How offended am I going to be by the music if I turn on the radio?” She asked as soon as they crossed Storybrooke’s limits and the sharp tug on their guts eased.

“I think you’ll survive.”

Regina gave her a suspicious glance, but ultimately decided to risk it. She paused, leaning back on her seat again as the Rolling Stones echoed _Wild Horses_ through the car. “That’s new.”

“Actually, it’s from the Seventies. Not even you were alive yet.”

“Very funny.”

“I thought you’d appreciate it,” Emma said, glancing at Regina. “The music, not the joke.”

“Then you weren’t entirely incorrect. What’s also new.”

Emma chuckled under her breath. “It’s no wonder Henry is so sassy when we try to lecture him, is it?” She turned to look at Regina again, and though she was staring through the window Emma spotted the grin reflected on the dark pane.

“I wouldn’t change that if I could,” Regina replied casually, making Emma wonder if she meant Henry’s sassiness or their bantering. “And I do appreciate the music.”

“This is a really good album, actually,” Emma started. She was good at smalltalk, a talent Regina had never mastered. When she tried to share knowledge, it sounded like a lecture; when she teased on something, it came off as criticism; and when she tried to be funny, people felt mocked. Not Emma Swan, though. It had taken Regina awhile to realize they could banter because Emma wasn’t afraid of her in the least. So they chatted lightly while she drove off to the neighbouring city.

They entered Castle Rock a little over an hour later, but the sky was already dark overhead, thick with clouds. Emma pulled over somewhere near the Main Street, the engine dying with a sigh. “We’re here,” She announced, reaching for her purse. Regina looked up through the windshield at the facade of a modern hotel, a crease showing between her eyebrows. “I hope it’s nice enough for you,” Emma ventured as they left the car.

“I’m sure it’ll do,” Regina replied stiffly. “Of course, dealing with you, I have to consider that not doing it in a vehicle is already a step-up.”

Emma frowned at the sharpness of her tone more than at the words. She followed Regina’s gaze to the hotel entrance for a moment, before understanding. “Jeez, I’m really touched by your willingness, but I actually meant _that_ place.” She pointed to the opposite sidewalk where they could spot the homely front of an Italian restaurant.

“Oh.” Regina said, stopping on her way towards the hotel lights. “A restaurant.”

“I’m pretty sure you said ‘take me out for dinner’ before you mentioned ‘getting it over with’,” Emma replied, gesturing for them to cross the street. She couldn’t deny it was sort of amusing to see Regina blush.

“Well, you never failed to ignore my directions before.”

“That’s bullshit,” Emma retorted, though they both knew it wasn’t. “Hi, I have a reservation. Emma Swan?”

The girl behind the podium checked a very short list before smiling at them. “Of course. A couple’s table, right?” She asked, to which Emma replied with clearing her throat instead of making use of any word.

“Yes,” Regina confirmed with a smug grin. “She is taking me out for dinner.”

“Oh, that’s nice!” The woman smiled back. So Regina also found it sort of amusing to see Emma blush.

They were led to a discreet table at the end of the salon and got rid off their coats as Regina looked around, “This is nice. How did you find it?”

“The internet,” Emma said, and as Regina was still staring, she added, “I might have come here before with a girl I met on Tinder?”

“Oh, really.”

“It’s still the internet,” Emma shrugged.

“What did you get then?”

“I don’t remember. Why don’t we look at the menu?”

“Make an effort. Since you already know the place.”

Emma sighed. “The garlic bread is pretty decent.”

“You had garlic bread on a date?”

“She wasn’t a vampire or anything,” She mumbled.

“And how did the night end?” Regina enquired, all but ignoring the card the waiter had put in front of her.

“You know, we can go somewhere else.”

“And lose such a decent garlic bread? I don’t think so!” She looked down at the card finally, and Emma tried to swallow her irritation. “Should we have some wine?”

“Yes! I mean. Yeah. I’d like that.” She definitely needed the alcohol.

“Red or white?”

Emma shrugged, “I just like it sweet.”

“Really?” Regina grinned. “Tonight might be a challenge for you, then.” This time she didn’t wait for an answer before waving at the maitre, what was probably a little mercy on her part. Emma had no words.

She ended up ordering red wine, what was somehow just what Emma had expected. “Would you like to toast or something?” Swan asked when their glasses were full.

“I don’t know,” Regina mused. “Maybe it’s too soon to celebrate.”

“We’re not going to jinx it.” Emma raised her glass slightly. “You can be a little optimistic this time.”

Regina looked her in the eyes for a second before allowing their glasses to finally meet. “Alright. Maybe this time.” But she didn’t look away even as she drank, almost as if expecting Emma to change her mind about all that positivity.

“The wine’s pretty good,” Emma said slowly, though she didn’t think that was why she felt like draining the bottle.

“It’s sweet enough,” Regina conceded. “And you never told me how the other night ended.”

Emma rolled her eyes, wishing her big mouth could swallow itself. “Sweet enough too, I guess.”

“I wonder what _that_ means,” The woman muttered. If she meant it as a mockery, it failed. It sounded just too sincere - what, of course, was much worse in making Emma feel uncomfortable.

“Are you hungry?”

“I could eat,” Regina said. “Should we order some garlic bread?”

“Fuck the garlic bread,” She retorted, making Regina arch her eyebrows. “Just look at the damn menu, choose something you like and I’ll have that too, then just talk to me without trying to annoy me all the damn time, will you?”

“So much for sweet,” She complained, though there was this glint in the back of her eyes that made Emma relax a little.

They ended up sharing a smoked salmon that tasted pretty great too.

“What is it?” Regina asked while Emma finished the rest of the wine and _La vie en rose_ played softly in the background.

“What?”

“You just made this face,” She said, studying the woman in front of her. “When you looked at your watch.”

“I didn’t.”

“How long we’ve been here?”

“A little over two hours,” Emma replied casually.

“Oh. And you think we should be going? Is that why you look like Edith Piaf just whispered in your ear that _it’s conception time_?”

“Shut up. I thought you weren’t going to annoy me anymore.”

“I never said that,” Regina smirked.

“I’m allowed to be a little nervous about this.”

“Yes, a little, but don’t delve in it too much. We wouldn’t like your nerves to get in the way of…”

“Nice,” Emma interrupted. “That’s really the best way to guarantee I don’t feel pressured.”

“You actually have nothing to worry about. I brought a pill, in any case.”

“You’re _kidding me_.”

“Just in case, Emma. It’s not a big deal.”

Emma stared at her empty glass at a loss for a moment, then looked up again. “What about you? Aren’t you nervous? Not even a little?”

Regina hesitated, wetting her lips for a moment before shrugging. “I brought lube too.”

“I’m so glad you took care of everything,” Emma drawled.

“Why are you offended? I’m being practical,” Regina argued. Her shoulders were square now, and her eyes promised to see the night through.

“I’m not offended! I just...” Emma sighed, shook her head. “I booked us a room, ok? The hotel across the street, I guess you figured.”

“Good,” Regina nodded. “I’m glad you took care of _something_.”

“Regina,” She said slowly. “You can trust me, you know.”

The woman paused, looking at Emma with her guard just slightly down. “I’m sure you realize I already am.”

“Yeah,” Emma whispered at last. “I guess I do.”

“Shall we?” Regina said, calmly now. It wasn’t really a question. It was time, so she stood and retrieved her coat, trusting Emma would follow suit. But for a moment, Emma stood still, watching as the woman in front of her put on her gloves and tucked the scarf inside her collar. Then Regina glanced at her, the same kind of glance she’d throw at her apple pies in the oven when she had some guest over, half daring it to deflate, half begging it not to embarass her by doing so. So Emma stood up.

The hotel was pretty neat on the inside, and the concierge welcomed them with a warm smile and a wish they had a pleasant night. In any other occasion, Regina would find Emma’s clear embarrassment no less than amusing, but tonight it made her wary.

They made their way to the lobby and to the elevator silently, after checking in. Emma was sure if she opened her mouth the only thing coming out of it would be the thought throbbing in her head. _Don’t go limp, please don’t go limp, don’t go limp on me tonight._

She slid the card through the knob and opened the door to a softly scented, casually decorated room. The heater came on as soon as she turned on the lights, purring on the background, and she dropped the coat on the rack by the door. The bed was huge, filled with a bunch of pillows in creamy cases, standing against the opposite wall like a stage.

Regina walked in and closed the door behind her, looking around indifferently as she placed her gloves on the sideboard. Emma felt the silence swelling until it could crush her against the wall, so she walked over to the mini freezer, desperate for something to occupy her hands with and wondering that if she’d go limp, than she had to work on blaming it on the alcohol.

“Beer?” She asked, opening a bottle using the hem of her cardigan. Regina turned to face her with a bored expression in her eyes.

“No, thank you.” She stared long at Emma, finally huffing when all the other woman did was avert her eyes and gulp down her beer. “Emma.”

“What?” She pulled lightly at the neck of her cardigan. “How… How do you wanna do this?”

“Sober would be nice.”

“Agree to disagree,” Emma replied, taking another swig under Regina’s narrowed eyes.

“That’s very mature of you. Flattering, too.”

“I didn’t-- I didn’t mean it that way.”

Regina made an annoyed, dismissive gesture. “Fine. I’ll just start, then.”

Emma glanced at her while Regina undressed her coat, hanging it besides hers before taking off her boots quietly. Their eyes met as Regina straightened herself again, this time loosening the scarf to hang it as well. Then she broke the stare to find the lateral zipper on her dress. The blood was thumping on Emma’s ears as Regina slipped off the black dress in one easy motion.

It felt wrong to look, but it was positively stupid not to. The beer tasted stale in her mouth.  

Regina wore a black lacy bra, and the thick dark thighs came up to her abdomen. From where Emma stood, she was all legs and fair skin, winy lips and shady eyes. When she bent over to push the thighs down her legs, the glimpse of her cleavage made Emma’s face burn.

Regina stood up again, calmly looking for Emma, nothing in her face betraying the nervous thundering of her heart. Those green eyes roamed the room more than they landed on her, the bottle half empty now as Emma looked so uncomfortable it was almost painful to watch. There was nothing new in getting naked in front of a stranger, really. But Emma was’t a stranger, was she? And she certainly didn’t react like the strangers. She did not react at all.

Regina breathed steadily, hands reaching behind her to unclip her bra.

“Wait. Wait. Stop,” Emma finally said, her throat moving as she swallowed hard.

 _And that’s when she quits_ , Regina thought bitterly, arms hanging on her sides.

Emma propped the beer on top of the mini freezer slowly, and they both pretended not to notice it shook a little. Then she walked over, eyes on Regina now, fully on Regina.

“I like to do that part myself,” She whispered.

“Oh,” Regina blinked, and the air caught on her throat when Emma raised a hand to her hair. She pushed a lock of hair from her face, then brushed her knuckles through Regina’s cheek so slowly it was almost torturing. Looking her in the eyes the whole time. Her hand made its way to her jaw and slid down her neck until it reached the strap on her shoulder. Emma let her fingertips follow the lace to Regina’s back and unclip the bra, then Regina shrugged slightly and the piece fell to the floor without a sound.

Emma glanced down because how could she not - Regina was beautiful, the kind of beautiful you never truly guesses it’s for the likes of you. Yet there she was, so close Emma was getting to know the scent of her skin. She shuddered then, the most discreet tremor, and somehow it unlocked everything Emma had been trying to hold back.

Regina let out the softest gasp when Emma pulled her in for a kiss. Maybe she wasn’t expecting it, maybe she had been expecting it for too long. Emma didn’t know. Their lips met cautiously, experimenting, trying until they fit. Emma tasted her lipstick, then a faint breath of wine, then only Regina.

They broke apart as Regina pulled Emma’s cardigan over her head, pausing to look at each other for this one gaspy moment before they kissed again. Emma was hard, so hard and so fast it was almost as embarrassing as going limp would had been. “Well, now I know why you were offended by the pill,” Regina whispered against her mouth, unbuttoning her jeans and pushing it down as their tongues danced slowly from one’s mouth to the other’s.

“Shut up,” Emma huffed and led her to bed, almost stumbling as her pants tangled on her boots. Regina chuckled, laying down propped on her elbows to watch as Emma battled her clothing for a little longer than socially acceptable. “ _Shut up_ ,” She laughed as she climbed the bed to meet Regina again. She _did_ shut up for once, her voice turning to a quiet buzz in their shared kiss.

 _This should feel weirder_ , she mused as Regina’s nails slipped up her back under the shirt, and her own mouth slid down her throat. It _had_ felt weird the whole night, but somehow not anymore.

The caress on her back became scratching when Emma closed her lips around a tight nipple. It felt tumid and pulsing against her tongue, and it sent bursts of wanting through her cock. Regina’s body was awaking a kind of hunger she wasn’t sure how to satiate yet - she wasn’t sure the last time she had felt it.

She hooked her fingers around Regina’s lacy underwear and the woman lifted her hips to allow Emma to take it off. Emma paused, kneeling between Regina’s legs, her erection stretching the navy boxers, and then Regina reached for her hand and pulled her down again, whispering, “Come here, come _here_.”

She got rid off Emma’s boxers in a second, her hand closing around her hard-on out of impulse, feeling how it throbbed under her touch, noticing how Emma’s breathing changed when she caressed it between her fingers. She was aroused herself, it was undeniable - Regina had never lied to herself about the sparkle between them, but neither had she anticipated this. The chemistry wasn’t a sparkle, it was a conflagration. Everything about Emma was turning her on, making her pulse and squirm and gasp.

“Wait,” Emma whispered by her ear, voice puffy as Regina teased the tip of her cock with her thumb. It was so gloriously rigid she wanted to play with it until Emma cried out loud. Yet, Emma seemed to have other plans. “Wait,” She repeated, holding Regina’s wrists against the bed. Her hard-on brushed Regina’s bare stomach as they kissed again; it made her clit throb in longing and delight. She was ready, so ready to do it now.

Emma still had other plans, though. Regina panted as she broke the kiss and moved down, unsure of what she meant to do until she was doing it. “ _Emma_ ,” She breathed as warm lips brushed her slit. She let the air out slow and silently before she gathered the voice to say, “You don’t have to… You don’t need to…”

Regina was already wet, as Emma was surely finding out. There was no real need for foreplay - let alone lube -, it had scarcely been since they first kissed. But Emma didn’t seem to care about that; her tongue made way, flicking Regina’s stiff clit in soft motions. She tangled her fingers in locks of blonde hair, pulling slightly as Emma went on.

Emma wasn’t one to brag, but if she was, she’d be proud to say she was quite good at this. It was all about paying attention to detail, which was her forte. For example, even though Regina was grabbing her hair kind of forcefully and reassuring her it wasn’t necessary, she made no true effort to pull away - because she _was_ enjoying it. But finding just _how_ she enjoyed it was the real fun.

Regina was sensitive, this much she realized soon. She trembled everytime Emma’s tongue charged against the bud of her clit, what most people would consider a good sign - and it was, sure, but it also meant the touch was a bit too intense, and she’d hardly come that way. So instead of changing her oral to something barely-there, that didn’t fit neither of them, she moved her focus to the tender area _around_ her clit, and oh shit.

Regina’s arousal came running down to drip from her chin almost immediately, and though she was a quiet one, she moaned when the orgasm hit. Emma felt Regina’s hips charging slightly against her mouth, her body convulsing in pleasure as she came. It was all so desperately hot Emma almost spilled on the sheets, too. She was throbbing from head to toe by the time Regina attempted to close her legs on Emma’s face.

There was a little bit of embarrassment on the flush of Regina’s cheeks when Emma went up to face her, but it only turned her on. Regina ran her thumb through Emma’s chin, wiping the moist traces of her come, eyes big and darker, if possible. She didn’t remember enjoying an oral this much before; she certainly never managed to come so fast, not when she wasn’t really trying. Jesus, not when she was doing her best _not to._

Emma kissed her, making Regina taste her own flavor on her lips. There was no waiting now as she gripped Emma’s cock and led it inside. She was too wet for Emma to have any trouble slipping in - but still it felt tight, just right and fitting, fulfilling her all the way in. The groan Emma let out against the hollow of her throat was all the confirmation she needed that she felt the same.

They fit so good Regina could barely keep her eyes from fluttering shut in pleasure. She threw her arms around Emma’s shoulders, fingers entwining at the back of her head, and their hips moved together.

 _Don’t come, don’t come yet, don’t you dare come yet_ , Emma muttered inside her head as Regina’s sex grasped her cock, slick and warm and perfect.

Regina was sure Emma was going to come very soon - her shoulders felt like rocks, her breathing was hard and this faint grumble echoed from the back of her throat. The idea sent chills all over her body, though she guessed she’d make it there again, too, if the woman lasted five, maybe ten more minutes.

Emma didn’t last even two more minutes, cursing hoarsely in Regina’s hair as she came unwillingly, her whole body tense and strained. Regina smirked to the ceiling and kissed the side of her neck in soft reassurance. It had felt so good, there was no reason to be frustrated.

“Wait,” Emma whispered again, not moving to part. Regina shivered when she charged her hips once more, her cock still very much hard. “Can we go again?”

“Really?”

“If you want.”

In answer, Regina pressed her knees to Emma’s hips and overturned their positions without letting her slip out. Emma didn’t remember doing it twice in a row without pulling out since she was seventeen, and yet right now she still felt so stark it would be painful to leave Regina’s body. The woman landed on top of her, the pressure suddenly increasing on Emma’s cock as her whole body weight came to massage it.

Regina leaned in to kiss her, both panting slightly as they adjusted to the sensation of this new position. Emma cupped Regina’s face with both hands, parting her lips further to allow her tongue in. Then Regina slipped out of reach, straightening herself again. In that second when Emma looked at her from below, and Regina had lipstick smudged on her chin and disheveled hair and a very keen glimmer in her eyes, she saw the Evil Queen, the shadow of it and the beauty of it. Then it all blended together as Regina started to ride.

Regina _was_ one to brag, and she was _great_ at this. She moved against Emma, back and forth, allowing her shaft to slip in and out underneath her. And the way Emma’s eyes flickered between her swaying breasts to her lips to their joined hips only made her this much more aroused.

Granted, she loved to be in control like this, she loved to press their rhythmin until Emma was cursing under her breath, gripping Regina’s hips urgently, probably trying to think of famished puppies or of soldiers dying on faraway wars to keep from coming too soon again. She loved that sweet tug of war, in which she chose the moment to pull Emma through the the central line.

But then Emma reached forward and her thumb found that special, sensitive spot her tongue had discovered earlier, and though Regina wanted to keep playing, that felt just too good to ignore. Emma rubbed around Regina’s clit; it was itself swollen and stiff like a rock, and the lightest brush made her yelp in surprise, but Emma knew just how to do it now.

Regina sped up in response, bringing their horny competition towards a hurried end. Emma groaned loudly as her cock twitched in despair, and Regina let her head fall back when the orgasm hit. Technically, Regina came first, but Emma’s come was flooding her even before she reached climax, and they reaped every ounce of pleasure from each other.

Emma was still catching her breath when Regina finally let her out and laid by her side, all rosy cheeks and tangly hair. The room felt overly warm now, the heater still purring from somewhere.

“Want that beer now?” Emma said lazily, turning to face Regina.

“Maybe in a minute,” She replied. “Guess I should keep my legs up for a moment.”

Emma frowned in confusion for a second, a split, tiny second. “Oh, yeah, sure, you’re right. I think I’m gonna take a shower, then.”

It was a split, tiny second. It was when things started to go south.

  
  
  
  


 

 

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  



	2. Needs

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hiii, I know it took me forever to deliver this second chapter. I knew how it started and how it ended, but what went in the middle was a challenge. hehe Thank you guys so much for the response! I'm having so much fun writing this, and I hope you enjoy the ride too :)

“Did I wake you?”

“No, not at all,” Emma lied, hiding a deep yawn behind the back of her hand.

Regina eyed the sweatpants and tank top before settling on the woman’s tangled hair. “I can come back another time.”

“Don’t be silly. Coffee?” Emma left the door open and headed for the kitchen.

Regina hesitated before following her in and closing the door behind them. “You are aware it’s past ten,” She said, getting off of her coat.

“My shift just ended three hours ago.”

“I should come back another time.”

Emma placed the kettle on the stove and looked up at Regina. “You wouldn’t be here on a Wednesday morning if the matter could wait.”

“It can wait,” The woman shrugged. “It can wait something around nine months.”

Emma blinked at her for a moment before the sharp tug on her guts made the penny drop. “Shit. Are you serious?”

Regina climbed a stool in front of the kitchen counter. “Yes, Emma. I’m pregnant.”

“Are you sure? I mean, it hasn’t been two weeks yet, isn’t it too soon to know?”

“I peed on three sticks this morning, and they all seemed to agree.”

“Shit,” Emma whispered.

“What is it? Next thing you’ll ask me if I’m sure the baby is yours.”

“I’m just… You’re like, one hundred percent sure?”

“ _Emma_ ,” The warning tone was unintentional, but fitting. “I _am_ sure. I… can already feel it.”

“What do you mean?”

“It’s _there_ ,” She said, but voicing it suddenly felt silly, and Regina cleared her throat. “I suppose I can make a blood test, if you require it.”

“I don’t re-- You can _feel_ it?”

“Couldn’t you? With Henry?”

Emma shook her head slowly. “I don’t think so. I mean, not until he started to move. Maybe it’s a magical thing?”

“Maybe.”

“Do you think _I_ can feel it?”

“I don’t know. I guess you can try - it would be quicker than a blood test, at least.”

Emma rolled her eyes, but rounded the counter to approach her. Regina turned on the stool, arching an eyebrow as Emma stood at arm’s reach. “Don’t be shy on me now,” She scoffed, bringing the woman’s hand to her stomach.

“It’s a heartbeat or something?”

“No, it’s not a… my belly isn’t _pulsing_ , Emma.”

“I’m just asking!”

“Just feel it!”

They stood in silence for a moment, Emma staring down at her own hand against Regina’s shirt as Regina’s eyes studied her. “Wow…” She said after a few seconds. “It’s really… something.”

“You don’t feel anything, do you?”

“Nope.”

Regina let the air out impatiently before standing up. “Don’t be thick,” She muttered, untucking her shirt and guiding Emma’s hand underneath it.

She shuddered very slightly as Emma’s cold hand was splayed against her bare stomach, with hers covering it. It was the closest they had been since that night two weeks ago, and they were both aware of it.

A faint lavender glow shone through the shirt as Regina guided Emma’s magic softly.

“ _Shit_ ,” She whispered then, the color draining from her lips as her eyes went round. “Shit. I think I… Oh, shit.”

“Language, Emma”

“The baby can’t _hear_ me.”

“But I can.”

“Fucking _shit_!” Emma yelled for good measure. “You’re pregnant.”

“Yes. I-- Emma!” She gasped as Swan pulled her closer for a hug, tight enough to leave her a little breathless.

“You’re pregnant,” Emma repeated, her breath against Regina’s hair.

“Yes,” She said again, smiling to herself. “We’re pregnant.”

* * *

“Welcome to the House of Barf,” Henry said as he opened the door. “You may wanna leave your appetite outside. And may I suggest you make use of earplugs? The retching is real, my friend.”

“Is it that bad?” Emma grimaced, walking past him to the hall.

“It’s bad. I haven’t seen her leave her room in two days. I only know she’s alive because she _texted_ to let me know I’m grounded for skipping curfew last night.”

“You gotta admire her commitment to parenting,” Emma mused as they walked upstairs together.

“Having a witch for a mother sucks sometimes, you know. I’m pretty sure I was very sneaky.”

“She didn’t need a spell for that,” Emma argued. “We GPS-ed your phone, like normal parents.”

“Oh,” Henry narrowed his eyes. “I should have suspected the Bounty Hunter mom.”

“Sorry, kid.” Emma patted his shoulder. “But also, respect your damn curfew.”

Henry was rolling his eyes at her as they reached Regina’s door and she knocked softly.  “Regina? It’s Emma. Are you ok?” No answer came from within and she eyed Henry. “Maybe she’s sleeping?”

“For two days?!”

Emma sighed and knocked again. “Regina? Can we come in?”

The only reply was a very distinguishable sound of retching that made both mother and son grimace.

“I told you. Earplugs?”

Emma waved him off. “Regina, I’m coming in, ok?” She tried the door. Locked. The toilet flush echoed from inside. “Dammit.” She tried the doorknob again, this time her hand glowing a bright white before it popped open.

“I knew I had a case about witches and privacy,” Henry muttered behind her as Emma opened the door slowly. She ignored him as she peeked inside the room, hesitating to walk in until she spotted Regina crossing the door from the bathroom.

“What is going on here?” She asked calmly, one regal eyebrow raised. Nothing in her posture gave away she had been sick a few seconds ago.

“Henry called,” Emma said. “Said you have been ill.”

“I have been pregnant.”

“Yeah, this two shouldn’t be synonymous. You’re pale as death.”

“Oh my, thank you,” Regina drawled, but Emma noticed she hadn’t stepped away from the door where she held onto the threshold. She was hoarse, too, and one could only guess how sore her throat felt by now.

“Come on, let’s sit down for a sec,” She approached her carefully, but Regina did nothing to refuse her help. That was worrisome. Her hand felt cold when Emma took it, and bony, somehow. Up close it was easy to see Regina had lost weight in the past week since they last had dinner together.

She was putting on a tough face for Henry, and Emma pretended she wasn’t supporting her as much as she was on the way to the bed.

“We should call a doctor.”

“That’s not necessary,” Regina assured, laying back on her pillows. “I already have an appointment for next Thursday. This is perfectly normal for fifth week.”

“Have you eaten at all today?” Emma asked, and Regina stared blankly at her. “Yesterday?”

“Well, most things seem to make me feel a little sick, so...”

“Maybe it wants blood,” Henry ventured by the door. “What?” He said once both moms glared at him. “It worked on _Twilight_!”

“Why don’t you make yourself useful and go buy your mother some Gatorade?” Emma suggested, looking at him through narrowed eyes.

“It doesn’t have to be _human_.”

“ _Henry_.”

“Fine.” He huffed. “I’m going.”

Emma turned to Regina again once she heard his steps down the stairs. “I think he’s a little jealous.”

“Why? You still spend as much time with him as always.”

“I meant jealous of you,” Emma smirked, sitting on the edge of the bed.

“Really?”

“Yeah. And you shouldn’t look so pleased,” She chuckled. “It’s gonna be trouble soon enough. Also, you can’t lock yourself in your room for two days instead of asking for help, you know.”

“I didn’t want to disturb anyone with such a silly thing as morning sickness.”

“It’s not morning sickness if it lasts all day,” Emma argued. “Let’s anticipate the appointment.”

“No. That’s completely unnecessary.”

“Regina,” Emma regarded her for a long moment. “Listen, there’ll be nothing wrong with the baby.”

“Of course it won’t. I know that.”

“Then why are you refusing to see a doctor?”

“I’m not _refusing_. I just-- It’s--” She averted her eyes, lips pressed into a thin pale line. “Maybe we just need a little more time do adapt to each other. Just a few more days.”

“What does that even mean?”

“I don’t know!” She threw her hands in the air, voice suddenly shaking. “I don’t know what I’m doing wrong! This baby seems _disgusted_ with me or something.”

“Come on, you know that’s si--” Emma trailed off as Regina’s teary eyes landed on her. “You’re not doing anything wrong.”

“You don’t know that.”

“I do know,” She assured, propping both hands on Regina’s shoulders and squeezing lightly. She felt so fragile. Emma’s heart skipped a beat when the woman hid her face on her shoulder, crying a silent, trembling sort of cry. Emma was way too familiar with that kind of crying that nobody was supposed to hear. “It’s ok,” She whispered, caressing Regina’s hair slowly. “I’m here now.”

“God, I’m so hungry”, She sobbed against Emma’s shoulders.

“Sure you are.”

“I’m almost willing to try blood.”

“I don’t think we should go there yet.”

“Probably not,” Regina agreed, sniffing just once before composing herself again. “I’m sorry. This is stupid. We should call the doctor.”

“Yeah. I’ll call her first thing tomorrow.”

“Thank you.” She wiped her eyes with her fingertips and the only clue that she had been crying at all was the reddish tip of her nose. Yeah, Emma was too used to that kind of crying.

“You’re not alone this time, you know.”

“I’ll try to remember that.”

“Good, and try a pizza, too. It’s my kid in there, after all.”

Regina frowned as her stomach gave a loud rumble that made Emma snicker.

“That’s not funny.”

“Not at all,” Emma laughed, taking out her cell. “I’ll ask Henry to bring us one. Pepperoni?” She suggested, smiling as Regina stared at her in mute anger. “Unless you really want to try that blood?”

The woman sighed. “Pepperoni is fine.”

“I thought so.”

* * *

Regina barely flinched as the ultrasound wand made way between her legs. The doctor was skilled, delicate, even as she turned to the screen above her shoulder. “Is this alright?” She asked, still facing the screen.

“It’s fine,” Regina nodded, glancing around to find that Emma was also facing elsewhere, points of color on her cheeks. She tried not to roll her eyes - she was covered from the waist down, for God’s sake! Sometimes Emma was so childish Regina could barely see in her the woman she had shared a bed with.

Other times, though, it was all she could see.

“Do you see it?” Emma asked, approaching the bed and quietly holding Regina’s hand.

“Just a moment,” Dr. Montgomery flashed them a smiled.

“Your hands are always cold,” Regina whispered.

“You know what they say. Cold hands…”

“Warm heart?” Regina arched an eyebrow.

“I was gonna say hot ass, but that works too,” She grinned, and this time Regina did roll her eyes. The doctor snickered under her breath, although that only instigated Emma’s silliness.

“Ok, here we go,” Dr. Montgomery finally said, turning the screen towards them. “Can you see it? That’s your baby.” She pointed at a grey smudge.

“Oh, our blob is so cute,” Emma said. “It looks just like you.”

“Can you stop your nonsenses for once?” Regina muttered, though her hand did press Emma’s tighter as the doctor let the murmur of the heartbeat echo through the room.

“It is a healthy blob, too,” The doctor conceded, winking at Emma. “Everything looks in order.” She clicked on the screen a couple of times, zooming it, though the life in there was so tiny they could barely recognize it as the flow of energy they both _felt_ so well. “How is the sickness?”

“More under control,” Regina said, eyes fixated on the graphic the heartbeat was drawing at the screen now.

“It likes pizza,” Emma announced almost proudly.

“Who doesn’t?” The doctor beamed. “You guys want a picture?”

“Sure,” Emma eyed Regina for confirmation, and the woman nodded silently. “We gotta show our blob around.”

“Don’t call it _blob_.”

“Splotch?”

Regina glared at her as the printer sighed a mechanical sigh and the doctor leaned in to retrieve a small picture.

“Here,” She handed it to Regina. “The first picture of your baby.”

“Oh. Thank you.”

“I’m going to let you guys have a sec,” Dr. Montgomery said as she retrieved the ultrasound. “Why don’t you meet me back in the office when you’re ready?”

“Ahm, sure,” Emma said, not so sure at all. “Thanks, doc.”

Emma didn’t know if she was supposed to help or to avert her eyes as Regina unhooked her legs from the props on the gynecological chair and pushed the sheets aside. Stupidly, she ended up doing neither and only watched as the woman took a lacy underwear back from her purse and slipped it in under her dress in easy, unabashed movements.

“ _Dèjá vu_ ,” Emma whispered to herself. Regina had done almost exactly the same that night in the hotel, when they were ready to go. Dressing her underwear at last, underneath the dress, as if delaying the moment to close the final door between them.  

“What was that?” She asked now, turning to Emma.

“Nothing, I just… Should we try and explain we’re not, like, a couple?” She said, pointing towards the door the doctor had crossed.

“If it’s important to you.”

“No, it’s… it’s not important. I just thought…”

“What?” Regina arched an eyebrow. “We’re in this together in any way that would matter to our doctor, aren’t we?”

“I suppose,” Emma agreed. “Just wanted to make sure you were comfortable, though.”

“Well, I’m not the one blushing to see a condom in an ultrasound wand.”

“I didn’t _blush_!”

“You’re blushing right now,” Regina pointed out, a little amused.

“I’m… excited about our blob, is all.”

“Don’t call it blob.”

Emma grinned. “I guess she gives couples this moment to hug it out and cry a little or something. Feel like doing that?”

“Not particularly,” Regina went back to the chair and took the black and white picture again.

“What is it?” Emma asked slowly after a few seconds of staring.

“Did you hear? Her heart beating?”

“ _Her_ heart?” Emma took a step closer and peeked at the photo over Regina’s shoulder.

“I don’t know, it just came out,” The woman frowned lightly. “It doesn’t matter to me.”

“It would be nice to have a girl, though,” Emma smiled. “We could name her Snow.”

“In your dreams,” Regina muttered and she laughed, not even realizing the soft kiss she planted on the woman’s shoulder until it made her shudder slightly and look back. “But it would be nice,” Regina added in a whisper. In a whisper because they were close enough to not need more than that.

“Can you believe we actually did it?” Emma asked, looking her in the eyes, then averting back to the picture in Regina’s hand. “This perfect, so fucking perfect…”

“Little blob?” Regina giggled at last. They ended up hugging it out and crying a little, after all.

* * *

“Come on, Rubes,” Emma muttered as she pressed the buzzer again. Nothing. She stepped back into the sidewalk, put her hands around her mouth and yelled at the second floor, “I know you’re in there! I can see the tv on!”

“I don’t have any peaches!” Ruby’s voice exploded from the intercom, and Emma rushed closer.

“I thought we were friends, Rubelia!”

“That’s not even my name.”

“You try to lecture someone named _Ruby_ , then.”

“Go home, Emma!”

“I can’t go home empty-handed,” She pleaded at the intercom. “What are you even doing anyway that you can’t help me out?”

“It’s eleven o’clock on a Saturday night and Dorothy came over - what do you _think_ I’m doing?”

“Binge watching _Wynonna Earp_?”

Ruby let out an impatient sigh. “You know me too well, Swan.” She buzzed the door open and Emma grinned to herself before quickly climbing the stairs.

“I still don’t have any peaches,” Ruby said as Emma reached the apartment door. The woman stood there in her pajamas, looking annoyed at her friend. “But you’re welcome to check for yourself.”

“You gotta have some,” Emma argued, following Ruby inside. “Your grandma makes peach pie everyday! Hey, Dottie.”

“Hi, Emms,” The girl turned on the sofa and waved at Emma. “Craving already, is she?”

“Yeah, either that or she found a very inventive way of torturing people. And by people I mostly mean me,” Emma rolled her eyes.

“Last week she made Emma drive all the way to Castle Rock to get garlic bread from some specific place!” Ruby fumed on her behalf.

“Yeah, but I had it coming,” Emma sighed. “So. What about those peaches?”

“Jesus. Maybe there’s some in the diner, but I don’t eat any fruit. Tell her, Dottie.”

“She lives off burgers,” Dorothy dutifully replied.

“That’s bad for your health,” Emma pointed out.

“Please, you’re one to talk,” Ruby huffed. “Just because you’re dating the Evil Fitness Queen--”

“We’re not dating.”

“You’re not fucking,” Ruby retorted. “But you’re definitely dating.”

Emma inhaled deeply. “Ruby. Can you please put on some clothes so we can go to the diner and get the Evil Fitness Queen some peaches before she curses the town again?”

“I thought we weren’t allowed to joke about that.”

“You aren’t. Let’s go.”

All things considered, Emma was really proud to ring Regina’s doorbell no later than forty minutes after the woman had taken her from her warm bed to wander around chasing peaches in the middle of the night.

“What took you so long?” Regina complained as she opened the door, shivering in her nightgown.

“It’s saturday night, Regina. You have no idea of the things I had to do to get your peaches!”

“Pester Ruby until she agreed to take you to the diner would be my first guess.”

“Well… she’s a werewolf, you know that, right? I was at risk!”

“Just give me my peaches,” Regina extended a hand and Emma sighed before delivering the package. “Thank you. Come on in. It’s freezing out here.” She turned on her heels before Emma had the time to say she intended to head back home.

Instead, she got in and closed the door. The hall was way warmer, and she took off her coat and scarf, hanging them on the cabinet by the door. The lights were off on the second floor, although it was fairly early for Henry to be asleep on a weekend. Emma followed the soft noises of cutlery and found Regina again in the kitchen.

“Where’s Henry?” She asked, watching the woman slice a peach into a bowl.

“He’s sleeping at Gretel’s tonight.”

“Really?”

“What am I to do?” Regina replied, shrugging her shoulders. “Her father and I agree it’s way too cold now to let them shag in the bug.”

“Wow. You’re such a cool mom,” Emma said.

Regina looked up and regarded her a little annoyed, but Emma wasn’t actually being ironic. In truth, she was grinning at her, a familiar, soft kind of grin. Regina brought a piece of fruit to her mouth and looked down again at the bowl. Lately, her body seemed to slip out of control quite a lot; she craved even the smallest things so hard even her breath appeared to be on hold until she fulfilled it. And sometimes, God help her, she called Emma in the middle of the night with random requests because she craved that grin.

Shaking her head, she finished slicing the peach and went to the freezer, eyes roaming around until she settled with peanut butter to top the fruit. As she did so, she wondered what was Emma’s excuse for complying everytime.

“That’s gross,” Emma chuckled from behind her as Regina brought a spoon to her mouth and exhaled in satisfaction. “I feel so vindicated for all those times you whined about my eating habits.”

“It’s your nasty kid,” She argued, having another spoon. “Want some?”

“No, thanks!” Emma waved her hands, grimacing. “At least we’re past the nausea, right?”

“Mostly.” She put the bowl down again. “But I better not exaggerate.”

“Smart choice.”

“Remember to thank Ruby on my behalf.”

“Will do,” Emma nodded.

“Have you eaten? I have some chicken pot pie in the oven.”

“I’m good, thanks. I ate earlier.”

“Chips and a coke are hardly dinner,” Regina arched an eyebrow.

 _You’re definitely dating_ , Ruby’s voice mocked from the back of Emma’s brains. But watching Regina stand there in the darkened kitchen in the middle of the night, trying not to glance at her breasts shaped against the nightdress as they discussed dinner, it felt like the joke was _not_ to be dating.

“I’m not hungry, really,” She said at last. “Just came by to bring you the stuff.”

“Emma,” Regina called more softly. “I really appreciate… your availability.”

“As you said, it _is_ my nasty kid.”

“Of course. I know you’re a very dedicated mother.” She wasn’t sarcastic per se, but there was an undertone to the phrase it took Emma a moment to fully understand.

“Hey,” Emma frowned, taking a step closer. “You know I’m here for you, right?”

“That was just what I was thanking you for--”

“No,” She insisted, laying a hand on the woman’s shoulder; the silky cloth of her robe was warm from her feverish skin. “I don’t mean for the kid. I mean for _you_.”

Regina looked up into her eyes then; a stare both of them could barely stand.

Then suddenly - yet not surprisingly - Regina leaned in and kissed her; an assured, hungry kiss to which Emma responded just as hard and deep. The sugar rush buzzed through Regina’s veins, feeding an overwhelming frenzy.

Regina moaned an approval as Emma lifted her to the kitchen counter, her hands tangled on Emma’s hair, pulling her tighter. There was also no surprise when she slipped a hand between them to find Emma’s hard-on ready over the jeans. She knew it’d be there; in a certain way, it had been there for the last three months.

Emma rolled up Regina’s nightgown to find no underwear, and as the woman ripped her zipper open and freed her cock in a hurry, the barriers were all overpassed. Regina guided her inside and welcomed her with a slippery warmth that made Emma groan and bite on her lower lip. Emma’s hands came up to press her breasts greedily; they were sore, but no complaint was uttered as thumbs rubbed hard nipples over silk.

They charged against each other with an end-of-the-world haste, gasping a symphony of groans at the empty house. Regina clawed at Emma’s shoulders, marveling at her closeness, at the scent of her shampoo and at the stunning hardness that pumped her nonstop. She had been masturbating to this, to fantasies very similar to this, and yet somehow reality felt even better, and her whole sex was tumid and sensitive enough for the penetration to feel fucking _amazing_. The orgasm came tumbling down on her, pure need of release.

“ _Shit,_ ” Emma panted by her ear, but it was too late for whining; her come spilled inside Regina and ran between her legs, and Emma kissed her hard again, tasting the moment in full until it was over.

It all didn’t last five minutes.

They stood out of breath for maybe ten seconds; Emma’s warm lips hovered Regina’s neck, slowly now. The rush was subduing, leaving in its wake a comfortable laziness Regina fought not to give in to. “Well,” She said, finally letting go of Emma’s shoulders and retreating until she slipped out with a soft sigh. “I guess I was craving that, too.”

Emma chuckled at that, touching Regina’s hair absently and kissing her lips open-mouthed, “Lucky you I’m so good at tending to them.”

“Indeed you are,” Regina breathed, then broke apart. “Let me hop off.”

Emma backed away almost reluctantly, and they both took a moment to straight their clothes, though there was still a considerable volume for Emma to fit inside her trousers.

“Thank you again,” Regina finally said, turning to her again. “For your availability.”

“Whenever you need,” Emma offered her a wicked grin. “I’m all here for your craves.”

“I’ll remember that,” Regina nodded. “Should I walk you to the door?”

“Ahm-- Wait-- Are you serious?”

“About walking you?”

“Regina, come on,” She said, frowning. “You’re not serious about this craving thing, are you? This wasn’t… This wasn’t like that.”

“But it was,” The woman replied calmly. “I needed something and you provided. Isn’t that our deal?”

“Maybe when we’re talking about peaches, or garlic bread! Not when-- This--”

“My hormones are all over the place, Emma,” She argued, throwing her hands in the air. “I’m at a very sensitive moment of my life, both physically and emotionally. It’s perfectly normal that I crave intercouse, and surely you are the obvious choice for a partner now.”

“ _Intercourse_? For real?”

“What is the matter? You’ve clearly enjoyed yourself as well.” _If your come running down my legs is any indication_ , she thought with a shudder.

“I did enjoy it,” Emma said slowly. “I don’t mean to say you took advantage of me, for God’s sake, but it’s just…”

“What? I was feeling restless, and now I feel fine. You have been truly good with all things pregnancy-related...”

“Regina, don’t do this. Don’t put this on the pregnancy account--”

“No, _you_ don’t do this,” She retorted, harsher now. “We are grown-ups, Emma. I am quite fond of sex, and we share this whole experience and a good chemistry. But don’t turn this into something it’s not. It won’t help us in the least.”

“So that’s it? A midnight craving I came to quickly fulfill?”

Regina gave her a cold smile and nodded. “Yes, I’m glad you understood. Should I walk you to the door now?”

“No need. I’ll show myself out.”

On the way to the car, Emma wondered what Ruby would think of this turn of events when they were definitely fucking, but apparently not dating.

* * *

“Oh, that won’t do,” Mary Margaret said under her breath, prompting Regina to look away from the group of chatting moms to follow her glance; a staggering Emma made her way through the pub’s door, fumbling with her car keys.

“Don’t.” Regina placed a hand on Mary Margaret’s shoulder, preventing her from getting up. ”I’m on it.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes,” Regina stood up and grabbed her purse. “I’m feeling rather tired myself. I’ll get Emma home before retiring for the night, too.”

“Alright,” MM nodded, giving her a knowing glance Regina chose to ignore. “Pregnancy is a marathon, isn’t it?”

“Tell me about it,” Regina exhaled. “Please give David my love; it’s been a lovely party.”

“Will do. You have a good night.”

Regina nodded softly before turning to say a quick goodbye to the other women around the table. When she managed to step onto the sidewalk, Emma was already battling with the car’s door.

“You are not seriously considering driving home at this state,” Regina said, arching an eyebrow.

“What state?” She grumbled back. “Almost frozen to death in this godforsaken town?”

“Undeniably inebriated would be my word choice.”

“Jesus, can’t you say ‘fucking drunk’ like a normal person?”

“I’m not a normal person, and you are not driving home _fucking drunk_ ,” Regina spat, rounding the car and taking the keys from Emma’s hand impatiently. “What were you thinking? You are the _police_ , and a _mother_ , you should be a role model!”

“I was just trying to get my _gloves_ ,” Emma muttered, knocking on the window pane. “It’s too cold to _walk_ home without them.”   

Regina stared angered at her for a moment before glancing through the window and spotting the gloves resting on the passenger seat. “See?” Emma insisted, wobbling on her feet. “You’re not having a second child with a complete moron.”

“Too early to reach _that_ conclusion,” Regina replied, making Emma roll her eyes. She leaned in and opened the car. “You go around and get in, I’m driving you home.”

“There’s no need, I can walk--”

“I promised your mother I’d get you home,” She ended before getting in. Emma hesitated for a moment, but at last went around the car and fell into the passenger seat.

“So you’re fully intermingled with the Mom Group now, huh?”

“Only took me seventeen years,” Regina mumbled, starting the car.

“They are so _bitchy_.”

“Yes.”

“You adore them, don’t you?”

Regina’s only response was a tenuous grin as she stared straight ahead. Emma snorted. “You must adore them, to stay at my dad’s birthday party until 2 a.m.”

“Is it so late already?” Regina said casually. Every muscle on her face was screaming for spending so much time _smiling_ at people. She had been, of course, waiting for Emma to leave. They both knew it; they stretched that tug of war throughout the night.

Emma sighed, resting her forehead against the window before replying, “Yeah, I think it’s pretty late now.”

“Drop this,” Regina retorted, hands closing tightly on the steering wheel. “I’ve been trying to talk to you the whole week.”

“We literally talked everyday.”

“No. You asked me about the baby; that was it.”

“What else do we have to talk about? It’s all about the baby, isn’t it?”

“Wow, _burn_ ,” Regina mocked. “Can you grow up? I’m not even sure what I did to offend you so much.”

“Really? Because I vividly remember you showing me the door, like, two minutes after we finished fucking on your kitchen counter. That was classy. So polite.”

“Oh my, I’m sorry, I’ll be sure to obey the five-minutes-of-cuddling rule next time.”  

“Next time?” Emma muttered. “Now that’s presumptuous.”

Regina took a deep breath, knuckles white on the wheel as she glanced at Emma. The blonde had her face turned to the window, but she pressed the gloves so tightly in her hands the woman was sure she was, too, swallowing a lot. She drove in silence for the next minute, before pulling in on Emma’s driveway.

“Thanks for the ride,” Emma said slowly, reaching for the doorknob. “I’ll go by your place tomorrow to get the car.”

“Emma, wait,” Regina reached out and held her wrist. “Wait. I am truly sorry if I made you feel cheap, somehow. That was never my intention.”

“Wasn’t it, though?” She replied ironically. “You made sure I wouldn’t think it meant anything.”

“Maybe I didn’t make myself clear,” Regina said calmly. “I did not want to give you the wrong impression that I am after any sort of relationship.”

“You didn’t, rest assured.”

“What isn’t to say that what we did was meaningless,” She went on. “Nothing we have done together for the past thirteen weeks was meaningless to me.”

“I know,” Emma rolled her eyes. “We made a baby, it’s a perfect little blob, we’ll probably find out the sex next week. I’m excited too, but--”

“You fucked me _so_ good.”

“Wha-- What.”

“Both times,” Regina said, brazen. “Yes, it is about the pregnancy too. I’ve been feeling way too sensitive, it’s uncomfortable to say the least,” She added quietly. “But it is also about you, and the fact that I know I can trust you, and that... you fucked me so good.”

“Stop… I think I’m too drunk to follow this conversation.”

“Can’t we just… enjoy it? Together? This side of the pregnancy, as much as all the others.”

“You mean… the fact it makes you horny sometimes?”

“Well… yes.”

Emma actually loved it when Regina quit playing around and was a direct son of a bitch. So few people did it; had the nerve to do it. It was risky, laying the cards on the table like this, but it was also so damn disarming.

“Don’t you think we’ll overcomplicate things?”

“We don’t have to,” Regina shrugged. “It’s a simple, straightforward agreement between two adults. Just as we have done so far.”

“I’m not sure if that makes you an optimistic or a pessimistic, honestly.”

“You know what? Forget about it, Emma. Maybe you are right. It’s not fair to lay all this on your shoulders. I’m sure I can handle some of these... _side effects_ without you.”

 _Without you_ , Emma noticed. Not _alone_. At the end of the day, Regina was great at word choice.

“I didn’t say that.” She mumbled as Regina let go of her wrist.

“What?”

“I didn’t say… I didn’t say no.”

“Are you saying yes, though?” The woman arched an eyebrow. Emma felt like prey, cornered in her own car, with a dark cold night outside and an Evil Sexy Queen inside. “Will you be available when I need you?”

“I…” Emma looked up then and the whole prey feeling vanished at once; Regina was definitely not looking at her like a huntress. She was vulnerable, too. She was lonely, even though now she was never _alone_. A few nights she’d feel lonelier, colder, and wouldn’t Emma want to be there, for God’s sake? Wouldn’t she be available to make any of these feelings go away, at any time? “Yes,” She said at last.

Regina let out the faintest of sighs. Then a spur of color spread through her cheeks and she grinned. “Are you available right now?”

* * *

“What’s wrong with a gender reveal party?” Emma asked, propping both fists on the table as if to point out her indignation.

“Well, nothing,” Regina replied with a dismissive gesture. “I just think it would be sensible to throw one once our child actually understands their gender identity and is ready to share with the world which one - if any - they identify with,” She added. “Unless, of course, we give birth to a white boy that grows up to be a white man, because there isn’t this much to celebrate about that.”

“ _Excuse me_ ,” Henry protested from the other side of the table. “I’m right here?!”

“You know we love you, darling,” Regina smiled at him. “Here, have another cookie.” She slipped the jar of freshly-baked chocolate chip cookies meant to be sprinkled on top of the vanilla ice cream she had bought for dessert. Henry huffed at her, but obediently laid back on his chair and nibbled his cookie in silence.

“You’re just a politicized party-pooper,” Emma accused.

“Oh, well,” Regina slipped the jar in her direction this time.

“She still thinks it’s a girl, though,” Henry said, eyeing his mom nonchalantly. “I heard you talking to the baby, the other day. Called it ‘my little princess’. Now tell me about gender roles.”

“It’s not about gender roles,” Regina retorted. “I am a queen, a daughter of mine would literally be a little princess.”

“How come you never called me little prince then, huh?” He pointed out. “Is it because I’m adopted?”

“No, Henry. It’s because you were already _obsessed_ about fairy tales and I didn’t want to lead you on.”

“I’m still the heir, you know.”

“When did you get so competitive, kid?” Emma chuckled, licking the crumbs from her fingers.

“It’s not a competition!” Henry said. “It’s a fact. I’m the heir.”

“You _are_ the heir,” Regina agreed. “And I’m sure you’ll be a great king someday. Just as I know you’ll be a great big brother, too.”

Emma had to contain a smirk as Henry’s shoulders dropped. “I’ll do my best,” He shrugged, and Regina leaned in to softly brush the hair away from his face. Although he’d normally pull away and immediately flop his bangs back into place, this time Henry just lowered his eyes for a moment. “Hey, are you guys up for that _Game of Thrones_ marathon?”

“What, tonight?” Emma arched an eyebrow. “You’re not going out?”

“Nope,” Henry shook his head. “Gretel’s at a sleepover party, so I’m all yours.”

“Wow, such an honor,” Regina mocked.

“Very touching,” Emma added.

Henry rolled his eyes. “I’ll set up the tv.”

As he left the dining room, Regina stood up and started piling up the dessert bowls. If the news that they wouldn’t have the house to themselves frustrated her in any way, she didn’t show. Not that Emma was keeping count, but they had scarcely spent a day apart in the last two weeks; the sole beep of her phone was now a weird type of foreplay. Regina would text her anytime and they’d meet somewhere, somehow.

Even so, they were far from establishing any sort of routine, and Emma didn’t think it was at random. They’d hook up on Emma’s couch, at Regina’s office, at the backseat of their cars - during lunchtime, or early mornings, or as people waited on them for Happy Hours at Granny’s. Then Regina would straight up her clothes and brush up her lipstick before waving a casual goodbye.

It was hot, Emma couldn't deny that much. Yet, tonight she was hoping they’d have… what?

“I never thought Henry wanted to be king,” Emma ventured as she followed Regina into the kitchen.

The woman chuckled as she put away the ice cream. “I think right now he wants all the attention he can get,” She mused, closing the fridge and turning to Emma. “I believe this is the first time ever he actually seems like a son of mine.”

“You shouldn’t be this proud, woman, I mean it,” Emma laughed, shaking her head. “I don’t want a civil war at our hands.”

“Oh, it’s still Henry. He’ll probably be the sweetest big brother in the world.”

“Yeah, I actually think so, too.”

Regina offered her an unarmed smile, hip scored against the fridge, her venter barely even noticeable under the wool cardigan.

“I always thought this was bullshit,” Emma started, taking a step closer, “but you’re actually glowing, you know that?”

“Glowing? What do you mean?” She narrowed her eyes.

“Just that you look great. No, you look fucking gorgeous. Pregnancy really suits you.”

She caught Regina off guard; the woman actually flushed, her surprised silence the cutest response - and then she recovered.

“You don’t know what you’re talking about. My feet are swollen, my skin is dry--”

“Your boobs are bigger…”

“Emma!” She hissed, looking over her shoulder to the kitchen door.

“Relax. He’s setting up the tv,” She smiled, but it faded once she took a final step closer and Regina slipped away from the fridge and from her reach.

“Yes, it’ll be nice to sit down for a few hours and just relax,” She said casually, screwing the cookie jar lid into place, turning her back at Emma. The message was clear enough - no cravings to tend to tonight. Just a family night on the couch.  

And the truth was, Emma loved those. She loved family nights; she lived for them. Yet, as they walked together into the tv room and Henry was lying in the exact middle of the couch, leaving each mom to take a place on either side of him, Emma wondered why this time she still wanted more.

* * *

Regina hurriedly tied her robe as she rushed downstairs. The house was dark and the floor cold under her bare feet. The clock on her phone had just changed to 1:47 am when the doorbell rang, and although she wasn’t asleep the startle almost threw her out of bed. Some part of her had expect the bell to ring again and again in panicked accords, but the rooms were silent once more, so silent and still she wondered if she had imagined the whole thing. Henry certainly hadn’t stepped out of _his_ room.

“Emma!” She croaked as she opened the front door. “What happened?! Are you hurt?”

“What? No! Why?”

“It’s almost two in the morning! You just showed up... What’s going on?”

“Oh. Shit. I’m sorry. Nothing happened,” She said quickly. “Can I come in?”

“Yes, of course,” Regina stepped aside to let the woman in and closed the door behind her.

“You look like you’re freezing,” Emma pointed out.

“Well, I am,” Regina hugged herself, covering her chest and the rigid nipples highlighted against her nightdress.

“I’m sorry, I just… I couldn’t sleep. I was wondering” Emma looked up into her eyes, lips pale and winter chipped, “if maybe you needed anything?” She said at last, softly.

“Emma…”

“Do you?” She insisted, stepping closer. Regina shuddered when Emma’s hands grabbed her by the hips, and although she had cold hands, she felt warmed by her touch. “Just… do you?”

“Yes,” Regina breathed, just barely nodding, and tried not to notice the deep look of relief on Emma’s face when she pulled her into a kiss. “Yes, I need you,” She added without meaning to, her words muffled against Emma’s lips.

They had parted ways not four hours ago, there was no excuse for the deep longing piled down Regina’s belly, and yet it overflowed as Emma kissed her jawline and her neck.

“I need you too,” Emma groaned against the hollow of her throat, hands palming her breasts over the clothes, drawing a sweet moan from her queen.

“Wait, Emma. We can’t do this here. Henry’s home.”

“No, he’s not.”

“What do you mean, he’s not?”

Emma lifted her head, finding the frown on Regina’s face. “The bug’s not in your garage, his window is open. He sneaked out.”

Regina let out an unnerved sigh. “I suppose a sleepover party is being crashed tonight.”

“That would be my guess, yep.”

“We’ll have to talk to him. He can’t just-- alright, yes, later,” She conceded as Emma pulled her closer and untied her robe. “Let’s continue this in bed.”

Regina pushed the coat off of Emma’s shoulders as she sat down in bed with the woman leaning over her. It was warmer there in the bedroom, and the door was locked, and the silence was intimate and rich. She got rid of her cardigan, too, and the tank top underneath. She peeled away every layer until Emma’s skin revealed itself in its pale glory.

“I wonder how Henry was the only child you conceived in your teen years,” Regina breathed, groping the hard-on stretching Emma’s pants. “If that’s you in your thirties.”

Emma was slightly flushed, which was part of the reason Regina loved to tease her about it; the other reason was the answer that followed, “It isn’t always like this.”

But between them, it always were. She unbuttoned the jeans and watched as Emma squirmed out of it, then pulled her onto her back on the mattress and straddled her in one swift motion. Emma reached out to push the robe away from her shoulders, making it slide down her arms and pool around their joined hips; then she did the same with the straps on Regina’s nightdress and her bare breasts came into view.

Emma knew they had been sore - she also knew they were an endless source of arousal to the woman on top of her. She propped herself on one elbow, using her free hand to cup a breast and guide it into her mouth. Regina exhaled and grabbed a handful of hair, pulling on it as Emma’s tongue outlined a nipple so rough it throbbed.

There was no underwear underneath the nightie - there never was -, and Emma felt Regina’s moist warmth rubbing against the cotton of her boxers. It would be easy to free her cock from it and slip inside her; the feeling of being inside of Regina had been such a huge part of her thoughts lately. But she wasn’t one to overlook the fact her boxers felt every second more wet, and that Regina rocked back and forth and gasped softly rhythmically.

“You gonna come?” She asked, risking to suck the tip of the breast against her lips.

“Yes, yes, I think so,” Regina whispered back.

“I wonder how were _you_ on your teen years.” Emma grinned. “If that’s you in your… sixties?”

Regina’s response was to push her back down briskly. “You’re so much sexier when you’re quiet.”

Emma laughed, but didn’t fight it as Regina leaned down to shut her up with a kiss. She moaned under her breath as her boxers were pulled down just enough to free her throbbing cock, and this time Regina’s whole heat and lubrication came to play as she rubbed herself off against Emma’s shaft until she came.

“You’re so beautiful,” She murmured by Regina’s ear; she thought she could hear in her own voice the painful edge that seemed to overtake her whole body. “Fuck, I wish my stupid brain could come up with something less cliché.”

“Stick to the clichés, dear,” The woman panted against her lips, kissing her again, harder this time. “You’re no good when you try to be creative.”

“You’re ridiculously hot,” Emma obeyed, and bit back a grin as Regina let out the faintest moan. “I have really improper dreams about your breasts,” She went on. “And your thighs.”

“Not my ass?” She mocked.

“I didn’t think we were there yet,” Emma chuckled, the sound dying in one long groan as Regina guided her inside.

“Well, you just didn’t ask,” Regina replied. The wicked grin on her plump lips almost ended Emma right then and there. Not helping the fact Regina began to ride.

“And fuck, you ride me really good.”

“I know. I’m great at this.”

And she was, tightening her grip on Emma’s cock at will, making her pussy suck it up and down until every muscle on her body was tense and even her toes were spasming to contain the orgasm. When it seemed impossible to last a moment longer, Emma grabbed her by the waist and threw her down on the bed again.

Regina did not protest; tonight they had time. They had a hunger harder to satiate.

They fumbled to fully get rid of all clothes, then Emma laid over her and their bodies met - completely naked for the first time. Skin on skin from head to toes, quite literally. Emma touched her forehead against Regina’s, their noses brushing as their breaths mixed. Their breasts grazed against each other, exchanging shudders, and further down there was the soft curve of Regina’s venter pressing Emma’s lower belly. She was hard, throbbing eagerly between Regina’s inner thighs, their legs entwined, and even their feet raked the sheets looking for each other.

Almost painfully slowly, they moved, shifted and adjusted until Emma penetrated her again; the ultimate togetherness. Regina locked her legs around Emma’s hips and her arms around Emma’s neck and they rocked in unison, chasing something that was so much more than a climax.

“My God,” Emma gasped when it was over, doing her best not to drop her full weight on Regina.

“‘My Queen’ is more than appropriated, you know,” Regina replied huskily, and they both giggled a lazy, idiot giggle.  

Emma gathered the strength to pull away from her and laid by the woman’s side. Regina turned to face her, rosy cheeks and dark eyes and a satisfied, cosy smile that practically summoned the words from Emma’s throat. “I think I love you.”

There was a second of deep silence before Regina laughed shortly. “And I think you overdid it with the clichés, dear.”

“Regina,” Emma held her hand almost in a hurry, because something told her that even though they were at her bed, her bedroom, her _house_ , Regina was about to get up and leave. “I’m not kidding. I’ve been meaning to tell you this, but I didn’t know how.”

“Probably because there’s nothing to tell me, really.”

“There is. And I think I’ve known it since our first time together. Because I forgot… I forgot why we were doing it. From the moment we kissed, I forgot, and it was only you and me, as if we didn’t need an ulterior motive at all to be together.”

“Emma, you are confused.” Regina freed her hand and sat up, pulling the sheets up to her chest.

“I’m not confused. I like this between us, every second of it, but I still find myself wanting more all the time. I want to be here even if all you need from me is a massage at your swollen feet.”

“Please, be reasonable. That’s solely the baby talking.”

“What does that even mean?”

“We are pregnant. Suddenly, the idea to form a _real, traditional_ family is very alluring. I understand, it’s to be expected, really. But that is not how things work between us.”

“And why not? Would it be so bad? Would it be so bad to be in a relationship with your children’s mother?”

“A relantio--?” Regina closed her eyes and rubbed the bridge of her nose. “We are not in a relationship.”

“Yeah, you’ve made it pretty clear. And now I’m making it pretty clear that we could be.”

“No, we couldn’t!” Regina snapped, opening her eyes again and glaring at Emma. “Put your head in the right place! We need to be steady and responsible when the baby comes along.”

“I don’t see why--”

“You never wanted a relationship with me _before_.”

“That’s what I’m trying to tell you!” Emma yelled. “I think there was something here all along. It’s not random at all that we keep choosing each other, is it?”

“No, Emma, it’s not random. I evaluated this situation for a really long time and I explained to you all my reasons before we started this,” Regina said impatiently. “It’s obvious now I wasn’t clear enough, or we wouldn’t be having this absurd conversation.”

“Don’t say like this was a mistake--”

“This is _not_ a mistake,” Regina interrupted at once, her hand propped protectively on her belly. “You are the one mistaken.”

Emma let out a shaky breath. “You’re really telling me you don’t feel anything? No, do not look away. And you know you can’t lie to me, so just fucking tell me. Damn, just tell me.”

“One of us must remain clear headed,” Regina said slowly. “We are not having anything but a co-parent relationship. And if you’re not enough of a grown-up to separate things, then this,” her finger jabbed the air between their naked bodies on the bed, “is over too.”

Emma shook her head, snorting under her breath. “When will _you_ be enough of a grown-up to learn that _separating_ things is not the only way?”

“I think you should go now, Emma.”

“Fuck. Ok. I’ll go. Let’s both pretend you won’t stay here and miss me.”

“Don’t be a pretentious little--”

“Don’t be a fucking liar.”

“God. Just go already!”

Emma got out of bed, picking up her clothes with an angered throb in her throat. Regina marched into the bathroom and slammed the door shut as she got dressed and left the room. A faint sunrise illuminated the hallways as she went downstairs again. She was at the bottom step putting on her boots when the door opened slowly.

Emma and Henry stared at each other in mutual disbelief for a second, then the boy’s eyebrows shot up into his hairline. “Please, tell me I didn’t just catch my mom doing the walk of shame with my other mom. I don’t think I could recover from that.”

Emma let the air out slowly, tied her boot and got up. “That makes two of us, kid,” She murmured as she crossed the door he was still holding ajar.

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  



	3. Agatha

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> wheeeew  
> So last chapter stirred things up a little. I'm glad everybody got to exercise their god-given right to share their opinion on the internet. And thank you to everyone that took the time to be kind and mostly just got where I'm trying to go with this.  
> I know this chapter took an unreasonable amount of time to get done - it was really just life getting in the way, but I always meant to finish it. At first, this fic was going to be 3 chapters long, but turns out I'll need one more. I hope it won't take me so long to write it and, most of all, I hope you haven't given up. :)  
> One last thing: I realized the time in this fic makes no sense whatsoever. I worried about it a little, then I remembered it's an OUAT fic and nonsensical time is very canon. hehe

After so many years living in Story Brooke, Emma had come to the conclusion that snow white was very cute for a princess’ name, not so much for a weather. The wind sounded angry and felt freezing as she stepped out of the station and into the Christmas-lit sidewalk. Not very different from her mood, actually, but not helping it either.

“Hey, Emma!” A voice called from across the street and the blonde looked up to find Arthur waving at her. “Congratulations on the baby girl!” He yelled with a bright smile as his dog hauled him down the sidewalk.

“Oh. Thanks, Artie,” She waved back, frowning slightly at his choice of words. Things would get a bit weird if the baby turned out to be a boy, after all that expectation around them.

Burying her hands deep in her pockets, Emma started towards Granny’s, hoping for a soup and a burger to take home. She was climbing the steps when the door creaked open.

“Emms,” August cheered, holding the door for her. “I just heard the news. Way to go, Swan! Girls are awesome.” 

Emma halted, a stale taste starting to crawl up her throat. “Can’t disagree,” She muttered at last, her tone hardly matching August’s warmth as he punched her shoulder lightly on her way in. She approached the counter, frowning.  

“There she is,” Ruby grinned as she came up to Emma. “So I hear it’s a girl, huh?”

“Where?” Emma asked.

“What?”

“Where did you hear it? Who told you it’s a girl?”

“Mary Margaret was just here,” Ruby shrugged. “Are you upset? Not my fault if your mom is blabbermouth. I mean, we’d figure she’d learned her lesson after the last time, right?” Ruby snorted at her own joke, but Emma felt only an uneasy tug at her guts.

“Can I have some potato soup and a cheeseburger to go, please?” She replied instead, then slid into a booth as Ruby shouted her order into the kitchen window. 

The phone rang twice before her mother’s voice echoed. _“Hi, honey. How are you?”_

“Hey, mom. I’m fine, how’s everything there?”

 _“We’re good. I just tucked Neal in. He was very excited slash confused by the prospect of having a niece.”_ Emma could hear the smile in her voice, but couldn’t reciprocate it. _“Your father and I, though, are only excited. Congratulations, sweetie.”_

“Mom, who told you it’s a girl?”

 _“Oh,”_ The woman paused. _“I met Henry as I picked up Neal from preschool, earlier today. He told me. I figured you were too busy at the station, but I was expecting your call tonight.”_

“Henry told you this?”

_“Yes, he said it wasn’t really a surprise, but the doctor was able to confirm it today and Regina--”_

The phone slipped between Emma’s fingers and thumped at the tabletop, MM’s voice still echoing from it. 

_Fuck. No. Fuck, no._

She ended the call without saying goodbye, numb fingers typing at the screen until she found the text from six weeks ago. And there it was, the date, the time, the appointment - now in the past, lost, gone. She had missed it.

On the way to the Mills house Emma quickly went through all the stages of the Screw Up: panic, guilt, rage, and back to panic. By the time she rang the doorbell and Regina appeared on the threshold, she was just feeling tired.

One look at Regina, though, and she knew the woman hadn't gone past rage yet.

"Can I come in?" 

"Henry went out," Regina replied coolly. "You can probably find him at Poulder's."

"You know I'm not here about Henry. Can I come in?" 

Regina stepped aside at last, not bothering to wait for Emma to cross the door before she turned towards the kitchen and disappeared down the hall. Emma got off her coat slowly and hung it by the door before following her steps.

"Why?" She asked by the kitchen door, watching as Regina poured a glass of wine into a frying pan. 

"I'm afraid you'll have to be more specific, Emma." 

Something about that cold tone flared Emma's temper. She could probably deal just fine with an hysterical Regina, but that Evil Queen act only hurt. 

"Why the fuck did you tell the whole town about our _daughter_ ," the word almost caught in her throat, "and couldn't be bothered to even text me?" 

"Well, I figured if you were curious about it, you'd have shown up for the ultrasound." 

Emma let the air out, rubbing her forehead with the base of her hand. "You've always reminded me--"

"So it's my fault you didn't show up?"

"That's not what I'm saying…"

"I suppose it's good to know that's the kind of parent you are going to be."

"And what kind is that?"

"The one that's not there," Regina replied slowly. "It won't be much different from Henry's upbringing, then."

“Oh, fuck you,” Emma snapped. “Yes, I forgot our appointment, I know. But every damn time before you reminded me. You were always nagging me, actually, making sure I fit in your tight schedule. So don’t act like we didn’t have an established routine for this kinda shit! You set me up for this--”

“ _I set you up_?” Regina snarled back. “It’s not my job to keep your agenda. It’s not my job to ensure you act like a grown-up!”

“Look, I’m trying to say I’m sorry--”

“No, you’re not,” The woman cut in, stepping away from the frying pan, what Emma was immediately grateful for. “You are trying to convince me I am somehow responsible for _your_ lack of responsibility.”

“I’m just saying I’m getting really tired of you punishing me! And for what? For saying that I love you? Jesus, why is that such a crime?”

“Don’t turn this on me, don’t you dare,” Regina whispered through gritted teeth. “I was the one waiting for you for over an hour. I let three women pass ahead until the nurse started looking at me like I was some lost puppy and I...” She trailed off, averting her eyes, and Emma gulped at the sight of her glowing fists.

“Why didn’t you just _call me_?!” She asked then, but Regina had turned her back on her and didn’t answer. Not that Emma needed her to. “Look. I’m sorry. I wanted to be there, I’m just… a mess. I’m a mess, and I forgot, and I can’t believe I forgot…”

Regina propped her hands on the sink, her shoulders tense, and Emma really wasn’t sure of what gave it away, but she just knew the woman was choking back tears. “If you’ve changed your mind…” Regina started.

“Regina, please.” 

“...we’ll be fine.”

“Is that why you didn’t call? To let me know you don’t need me?” 

There was another brief silence before the woman turned around to face her again. “I am not forcing you into this. If you don’t want to come over to dinner anymore, if you don’t want to go to the ultrasounds…”

“I was on call last Friday--”

“And the one before that?” 

Emma sighed. “Things were… weird.”

“What is undoubtedly my fault, too.”

“Well, you did break up with--”

“Oh, shut up,” Regina spat. “ _You_ are the one punishing me. And God knows I’ve endured far worse from people that meant far less, so I’m fine. It’s fine, really, except that it isn’t just about _me_ anymore.”

“I never meant to, Regina.”

“Of course; not the Savior, you wouldn’t,” She drawled. “You just don’t deal so well with rejection, do you? And I, God, I should be grateful someone still wants to be with me, shouldn’t I?”

“I didn’t say that...” 

“But you _thought_ it,” She accused, rounding the kitchen counter to come closer. “It never occurred to you that maybe I wasn’t desperate for your love. That maybe I am doing fine on my own and that I don’t need to be saved anymore.”

Regina didn’t need Emma’s enhanced skills to see she was about to lie, to deny it; but then she didn’t say a word, a light pink crawling up her cheeks. In the silence that followed, the tension seemed to crack, and neither of them was sure of what lay underneath. 

Emma took one tentative step forward. 

"Don't," Regina whispered, heart thumping. 

Emma halted, sighed heavily. “I am sorry I missed it today,” She finally said, and it was a defeat of sorts. In truth, as it generally went between them, nobody won. 

Regina made a dismissive gesture; probably the best Emma would get tonight. But then she went on to say, “Perhaps I should have reminded you.”

The silence that followed was full of unsaid things that tasted poorly. They both swallowed them down.

“So.” Emma exhaled, stuffing her hands in her pockets. Her hands that wanted to brush that exhaustion away from Regina’s brow. “I hear it’s a girl.”

There was this one tense moment, and then the air seemed light as Regina broke into an unwilling grin; she just couldn’t help it, and Emma forgot the anger that was turning her guts to ashes just a moment ago. Jesus, _everything_ was forgotten when Regina smiled.

 “It’s a girl.”

* * *

 

“Hey, mom,” Henry called, making Regina look up from the book she was reading curled up in her armchair by the fireplace. “I’m going out to meet Gretel and Hansel at the movies, ok? I’ll be back by eleven.” 

“Alright,” She nodded briefly. “Enjoy your movie.” 

“Thanks.”

Regina went back to the page as Henry motioned to leave, but then he called again, “Mom?”

“Do you need money? You know the drawer in my office…”

“No, I… I mean, if you’re offering.” He grinned. “But it’s just… Are you ok, mom?” 

“Yes, of course,” Regina lowered the book and adjusted herself on the chair, the blanket tangling around her feet. “Why do you ask?”

“I don’t know,” He shrugged. “You’ve been unusually quiet.”

“I’m fine, dear. A bit tired, perhaps,” She replied, resting a hand over her tumid belly. “Just today I’ve made a femur and the most part of a lung, so you see, I’ve been busy.”

Henry snorted at that, crossing the room to sit on the sofa by her side. “Are you and mom still being weird with each other?” 

For a moment, Regina considered pretending she had no idea what he was talking about, but ultimately she sighed and took off her glasses to rub her tired eyes. “Henry, that’s… a grown-up matter. I am sorry if we have upset you in any way…”

“I’m not upset,” He said, shaking his head. “Mom, though…” 

“I’m sure your mother is fine. And it’s nothing for you to worry about.”

“I don’t know. I think she’s really heartbroken or something.” He said it casually, and maybe that was why Regina was caught so off guard. Coming from Henry’s lips, it sounded too sincere to be a lie. Although it couldn’t possibly be the truth.

“Henry,” She called at last, and there was a tinge of apprehension in her voice. “I don’t… I assure you I do not mean to make your mother sad in any way.”

“I know you don’t.” His hand covered hers over the blanket and Regina noticed the sudden reassurance in his tone. He wasn’t mad, and he wasn’t accusing. He wasn’t pointing out the Evil Queen in her. But he wasn’t over either. “You mean to make yourself sad. I just don’t get why.”

“This really isn’t the kind of conversation we should be having,” Regina managed to say, shifting uncomfortably. “Don’t you have a movie to catch?”

“Yeah,” He nodded, letting go of her hand. “They’re playing _West Side Story_ at the Classic Theater this weekend and Gretel’s never seen it. She’s into Disney and superhero movies,” He grumbled.

“Oh my! I hope she has some strong redeeming qualities.”

“She’s a pretty good kisser,” He shrugged, earning a smile from his mother.

“I figured you’d mention something in this area.”

“Well, you can’t really blame me for liking them blonde and childish, can you?” 

“ _Henry_.”

“Alright, I’m off,” He chuckled, standing up to plant a kiss on Regina’s cheek. “So can I have twenty bucks?”

“Yes.”

“Thanks, mom.” Henry strode across the room, waving at her. “I’ll be back by eleven!”

“No, you won’t,” Regina muttered, rolling her eyes, but the room was already empty.

* * *

 

“What is it?!” Emma panted, slamming Regina’s door open. “What’s the emergency?”

Regina looked up, raising an eyebrow at the woman at her office’s threshold; the hair tangled on her scarf, the half-buttoned-up overcoat, the rosy cheeks. “There is no emergency,” She replied carefully as Emma still gasped for air. “Did you _run_ all the way here?”

“I-- No? I… Yes. Yes, I did, I ran.”

“Don’t you have a perfectly fine sedan?”

“Ruby borrowed my-- What the hell is going on?!”

“First, _language_ , please. What are you all riled up about?”

“Regina. You just texted me,” Emma breathed, hand diving into a pocket to retrieve her Galaxy and reading from it. “‘Come to my office. Pregnancy matter. ASAP.’”

“I do remember, Emma. It was some eight minutes ago.”

“ _So?_ ”

“ASAP means _as soon as possible_ , not _awkwardly sweating and panicking_ , you know.” 

“I swear to God,” Emma said, finally stepping into the room, “if you brought me here to say you’re craving peaches again…”

“I’ve been over peaches for weeks.” 

“Can you just tell me?” She said, throwing her hands in the air. Regina looked no short of amused by her flustered face and tone, which only aggravated her further.

“Close the door, please, will you?”

Emma let the air out and turned slowly to comply, her heartbeat still echoing softly in her temples. She had ran there, for God’s sake, and the streets were fucking _icy_. One text and she had ran there. She closed the door. 

“Right. So now will y-- whoa, _what_ is happening?”

“Don’t get your hopes up, dear,” Regina deadpanned, her blouse halfway open as she rounded the table and walked towards Emma. There was a tank top underneath, yes, but suddenly one layer of cloth seemed such a fragile barrier. 

“Regina.”

“The baby is kicking,” She finally said, hand caressing the curve of her stomach. “It feels so _weird_. I thought you’d like to… I do realize now it’s a bit dull. You’ve had Henry, after all.”

“No,” Emma said in a rush. “I would like to-- I do. Jesus, she is _kicking_ already?”

Regina halted a step away, and there was an unsaid invitation in the way she stared at Emma. She approached the woman and Regina’s hand met hers halfway and guided it to the point below her left rib cage. Such a thin barrier of cloth, and the warmth of the skin below reached Emma’s cold hand. 

“Can you feel it?”

“I don’t think so…” She lowered her eyes. “She must be a tiny baby. I got so round when I was expecting Henry. You, with your coat on, you barely look pregnant at all.”

“The doctor says--”

“Yeah, yeah, no, I don’t mean…” Emma looked up again. “We know she’s doing great. That’s not what I meant.”

“She _is_ kicking. Why don’t you feel it?”

“It probably feels stronger to you, from the inside.”

“Try here, here now,” Regina said, her hand grabbing Emma’s and sliding it underneath her top. “ _God_ , you have cold hands,” She breathed as Emma’s palm made contact with her belly button. 

“Yeah. You know it.” 

They stood there for a moment, the skin under her hand feeling still and warm. Regina averted her eyes, but brought them back quickly. There was something inescapable between them, something she couldn’t look away from. Not for too long, anyway.

“I’m sorry if I startled you before,” She said slowly. “With the text.”

“It’s alright. I’m just jumpy, I guess. Like, all the time.”

“Occupational hazard of being the Savior, I suppose.” 

“You know, we don’t… we don’t really have to be those characters for the rest of our lives. I don’t have to be the Savior anymore. And you…”

“Did you feel _that_ ?” Regina cut in. There _was_ a faint sense of motion underneath her hand now. 

“Wow. I do, actually. I do.” 

“She _is_ kicking.”

“She is,” Emma agreed, grinning. “We have to think of a name.”

“It’s still a no for Snow White.”

“What about Charmingly? Dad would be pumped.”

“That’s a contender.” Regina rolled her eyes. “You know what? No homages. Let’s pick a beautiful, ordinary name. No history. Let’s just let her be… something new.”

Emma stared at her for a second, then nodded slowly. “Yeah. Let’s do that.”

* * *

 

Emma approached the kitchen door and paused as she watched her father putting away the dishes. “Hey. I’m hungry.”

“Hi, Hungry,” He said, turning to her, “I’m Dad.” He completed his own joke with a snort of laughter. “What did you think of that one? I just learned this week.”

“Jesus, dad, I’m in my thirties,” Emma moaned. “Save it for Neal.”

“Uh-uhn,” He shook his head. “You’ve escaped dad jokes for far too long.”

Emma sighed dramatically. “Can I just have something to eat?” 

“Yeah, my stash is in that cabinet.” David motioned his chin towards the furniture in the corner and Emma went on to find his bags of chips, Twinkies and popcorn. “Are we playing FIFA?”

“Yep. I’ve been working on my lineup. You’re screwed.”    

“Let’s see about that,” He retorted as they made way to the living room with a huge bag of chips and two bottles of beer. Emma had just pressed start when he asked, “How are things with your baby mama?”

“Ugh. Don’t call her that.” 

“Fine. How are things with the woman you’re in love with and that constantly rejects you even though she’s expecting your baby?”

“Ok, that was just uncalled for!” Emma elbowed him.

“Was it, though?” 

Maybe not.

“Things are ok now, I guess,” She grumbled. “We’re trying to get along, not upset our kids.”

He nodded in silence, both staring at the tv. Somehow, they managed to have the most deep conversations as they played video games. Maybe that was why Emma never won. 

“And do you have a plan or…?” David asked after a moment.

“What do you mean?” 

“To win her over, Emma.”

“Win her…? Dad, that’s not Fairytale Land. This is not… I can’t just prince-charming her.”

“Have you tried?”

“I-- Dammit!” She muttered as her father scored. “You know, I’ve made my move, alright? She should be the one coming after me now.”

“You mean the woman who’s lost everyone she’s ever loved? You mean the bitter, cold, hurt woman who thought she had fallen so far from love she cursed a whole… nice move!... a whole land?”

“Well, when you put it like that…” 

David shook his head. “What you want to do is a grand gesture.”

“A _what_?”

“You heard me,” He glanced at her sideways. “Don’t make this face, kiddo. I’m serious. You have to end this. I’m counting on you.”

“End what?”

“The Mills Thrall.”

“Wh-- _shit, that was close._ What the hell is the Mills Thrall?”

“It’s a kind of curse that runs in the Blanchard family. Your mother won’t even hear about it, but facts are facts. You know your grandfather was married to her--”

“Thanks for reminding me.” Emma grimaced.

“You mother had this huge girl crush on her.”

“She did not!”

“She did, too,” He chuckled. “But this one I broke myself. Then, there you come. Just head over heels.”

“Dad!”

“Now she’s the mother of my grandchildren,” He went on. “Even Baby Neal is in awe of her.”

This much Emma could not deny. It took Neal several weeks to forgive her for having a baby with Regina. And it didn’t escape her that he only let it go once she assured him they were not married.

“The Mills Thrall, huh?”

“Yes,” He confirmed. “So will you please marry her and end this? I’d like to broaden our family tree at some point.” 

Emma chuckled at that, although something tugged the depths of her stomach. Half an hour later, she leaned back on the couch with her fingers sore from scrunching the joystick so hard. “Shit. Shouldn’t you, like, let me win at least once so I can build up some confidence?”

David snickered, finishing his beer. “Please, you’re in your thirties. I save that for Neal.”

* * *

 

“Ok, so,” Henry started, adjusting himself on the stool, “that leaves us with three options. Monica, Eleanor, and clearly the best one, Agatha.” 

“They’re all cute names,” Emma stated, pouring them another round of hot chocolate. Snow was blowing outside and wheezing on the windows, but she had the heater on and her small apartment felt immensely cozy as they had some Christmas breakfast.

“Monica Mills sounds like an unsuccessful country singer that ends her days as a pet shop owner somewhere.” 

“That’s rather specific, dear,” Regina said. 

“And it’s Monica _Swan_ -Mills,” Emma corrected. 

“Right. I meant a _very_ unsuccessful country singer,” Henry retorted, causing Regina no chuckle inside her cup. 

“Excuse me! I want my suggestion to be taken as seriously as any other.”

“Perhaps you shouldn’t have picked a name from _Friends_ , then,” Regina ventured. 

“You know, I’m so glad your appetite is back to normal. Why don’t you have another pancake?”

“I’ve already had four.”

“Yes, and this conversation was difficult enough while you had your mouth full.” Emma smiled, piling two more pancakes on her plate. “Also, it _is_ actually nice to see you eating again.”

“Can’t seem to stop, these days.” 

“Yeah, yeah, you’re making Agatha’s liver or whatever,” Henry dismissed. 

“She’s actually pretty much done by now,” Regina said, pouring syrup on the pancakes nonetheless. “Only growing.”

“Doesn’t look like she’s growing much.”

“She still has time,” Emma replied quickly. Regina was way too sensitive about her discreet belly. “Six weeks to go.”

“You enjoy it, Agatha,” Henry murmured, his hand resting easily on his mother’s stomach. “It’s freaking cold out here.”

“Stop calling her Agatha. I see what you’re doing,” Emma narrowed her eyes at him. 

“Why? Do you prefer Eleanor?” 

“Oh my God! You guys are so annoying!” She slammed both hands on the counter. “Monica is a beautiful name!”

“Ok, ok,” Henry raised his arms in surrender. “No need to go all Dark Swan on us.”

“I thought we weren’t allowed to joke about that.” Regina raised an eyebrow.

“You aren’t,” Emma muttered, although they knew she was fighting off a grin. It was true enough that they only had good options now, and she had never guessed her suggestion would be the winner - when had it been, in that family, anyway? She didn’t mind. They had all spent Christmas Eve together, her son, her parents, her brother and her… and Regina. And this Christmas morning was no less than perfect, if she was to ask. She wouldn’t mind if they named the baby Buballoo (Baby Neal’s suggestion).

“Well, as much as I’d like to stay and watch mom win the pancake eating contest I didn’t know was going on,” Henry started, sliding off the stool, “Gretel’s waiting for me.”

“Does she even _do_ anything else?” Regina wondered, bringing another piece of pancake to her mouth nonchalantly.

“It does sound like she spends an awful lot of time waiting for you,” Emma nodded.

“A girl should have hobbies, you know.”

“A boy, too, for that matter. Do you still even read?” Emma eyed the pile of books Henry got for Christmas. “Perhaps I should have given you a watch, so you’d know all the time Gretel’s waiting.”

“That’d be useful,” Regina chirped in.

“Jesus, I liked you better when you hated each other,” He grumbled, getting his coat on his way to the door.

“Merry Christmas, kid!” Emma shouted as he slammed the door behind him. Regina was chuckling into her cup again. “You know, I think as far as teenagers go, we still got pretty lucky.” 

Regina nodded as Emma started carrying the dishes to the sink. “When _I_ was eighteen, I started learning dark magic.”

“I got knocked up and went to jail.”

They paused for a moment, before bursting into laughter. 

“Who let us have a kid together?!”

“ _Two_ kids,” Regina pointed out. 

“No, don’t,” Emma held her hand as the woman motioned towards the dishes. “Leave it.”

“You cooked.”

“For once,” She said, smiling. Regina’s laugh still seemed to warm the air around them, her eyes bright and her hand soft against Emma’s. “Leave it,” She said again, not sure if she meant the dishes anymore. 

“Then I should go.”

“Why?”

“I… I don’t know, Emma.” 

“Wait, then. I’ve got something for you.”

“What?” Regina frowned slightly as Emma let go of her hand and rounded the counter towards the living room. “What is it? You’ve already...”

“It’s not exactly a Christmas gift,” Emma explained as Regina eyed suspiciously the little box she offered. “Go on, open it.”

“It’s bad manners to open a present in front of the person.”

Emma grinned. “It’s Christmas morning. It’s opening time.”

“You said it isn’t a Christmas gift.”

“Are you scared?” She teased, the little box now turning around between Regina’s hands.

“I… Yes,” Regina replied softly, taking Emma somewhat by surprise. 

“Do you know what it is?” 

Regina let the air out slowly, and Emma swore she could taste her breath. “I want things between us to go back to normal.”

“And what is normal?” She argued. “Hating each other? Saving each other’s life? Being friends? We’ve been so many things to each other, Regina. Why not something more?”

“We’ve talked about this--”

“No, we haven’t,” Emma cut in, taking the gift from her hands again an unwrapping it unceremoniously. “Not about this.” She flipped open the velvet box underneath to show the thin golden band of a ring. 

Regina glanced at it and looked away as if the sight hurt her eyes. “You are being unreasonable. I am the one full of hormones and you are the one--”

“Marry me.”

“--acting crazy!”

“Marry me,” Emma repeated. “You’re the mother of my children and, honestly, my best friend. I don’t know how you can make these things and turn them into reasons why we _shouldn’t_ be together, and I’m tired of pretending this makes any sense.”

“I’m… your best friend?”

“Yeah. You are. There’s no one that knows you better than I do, too. I’ve seen your every side, and I love you. I am not… shit, I’m not trying to give you a Happy Ending, just… Can’t we try having like… a Happy Middle?” 

“...for a moment there I thought you said a Happy Meal.”

“It sounded better in my head... I suck at being romantic.” 

Regina nodded in silence, a smile in her eyes. “Can’t disagree.”

“You don’t help it either! Wouldn’t even open the goddamn gift!”

“Well, maybe I didn’t want you to give me a goddamn ring!”

“How did you even know?”

“Oh, please, you’re anything but mysterious.” Regina rolled her eyes. “Things were just going back on track…” She said regretfully. 

“Well, that’s not exactly how I expected things to go either, you know.”

“What _did_ you expect? You’ve just proposed out of the blue. We were not even in a relationship!”

“You’re from Fairytale Land!” Emma argued. “How the hell is it so shocking?”

“This is not Fairytale Land,” Regina replied. “You can’t just go on and prince-charming me.”

 _Dammit, dad!_ Emma took a deep breath. “Look, don’t answer right now. You have a thick head and it’s good to let things sink in.”

“Funny,” Regina retorted, exhaling as Emma clacked the little box closed again. “Emma. I cannot--”

“Don’t answer now,” She insisted. “I can wait.”

“If you enjoy wasting time...”

“I’m not kidding around,” Emma said, closing the gap between them. “If it’s not a grand gesture, then I guess it’s a matter of time.” 

“What are you talking about?”

“Nothing.” Emma shook her head. “I do have one more argument, though.”

“What is it?” She asked, although Emma was anything but mysterious. 

“This.” And her hand trailed up the back of Regina’s neck and pulled in for a kiss.  

She missed this; Emma’s cold hands and heated mouth, the easy confidence of her touch, the tingle of lust underneath it all when their magics started buzzing. Regina’s body woke up in a rush, and suddenly there were waves of feeling on top of waves of sensation. And it hurt in all of the best ways. 

Why had she been denying herself this? Why crave it when she could have it? Regina moaned and Emma broke apart, letting her lip escape scratched between her teeth. They stared at each other for a moment before Regina nodded, out of breath. 

“Good point,” She said. Emma smiled, flushed, and kissed her again; her tongue charged softly into Regina’s mouth, hands in her hair, then in her lower back, her hips, all but claiming her. 

When they parted again, Emma brushed her lips on the corner of Regina’s mouth, dragged them all the way to her temple and held her in her arms as she whispered, “Since you’re so keen about separating things, I guess the longer you take to decide, the longer we don’t get to do this.” 

Regina could all but _hear_ the grin in her voice. It made her shiver.  

“When did you get so good at reasoning?”

Emma chuckled. “I’ve learned from the best. _Dear_.” 

* * *

 

“Oh, wow,” Regina said from the door. “It really _is_ coming together.” 

Emma rolled her eyes. “I told you I could build the crib just fine.”

“Yes, you told me. And I did not believe it for a second.” She stepped in. “Coffee?”

“Yeah, thanks.” Emma put down the screwdriver and stood up to take the cup Regina was offering. “I think I’ll put up the wallpaper this week, too.”

“Ok,” Regina nodded slowly. “And when are you bringing your stuff?”

“My…? Oh.” Emma paused. “I wasn’t sure if we were still doing this.”

“Why, now that I’ve denied your proposal to marry you I won’t need help with our child anymore?” 

“You know, I’m starting to feel like you enjoy bringing this up,” Emma accused, though there wasn’t any bite behind the words. 

“Move in, Emma. We agreed on this, and I don’t want to go over everything again,” She said matter-of-factly, and then, “I’m sure you can keep your apartment, too, if you need more of a private place, sometimes.”

“Huh,” Emma said, watching Regina over the rim as she sipped her coffee. “Is that your way of telling me to start seeing other people?” 

“What? No. No, it’s not. Why, are you?”

Emma arched an eyebrow, letting the moment linger just a little more than necessary. “No, I’m not. Are you?”

Regina snorted at that. “Please, I have just entered third semester,” She pointed out. “I carry a cantaloupe-sized life-sucker being around with me all the time.” 

“I love seeing pregnancy through your eyes,” Emma deadpanned. 

Regina shrugged it off. “What I meant is that not even I can manage being sexy at this point.”

Emma sipped her coffee again, murmuring into her cup, “Let’s agree to disagree.”  

“Don’t be silly.” 

“Ok, alright,” Emma said. “I’ll start packing and I’ll be here by the end of this month. Would that be alright?”

“Yes, that would be fine.”

“This should give you enough time to invite me to move into your bedroom, too.”

“You know, I’m starting to feel like _you_ enjoy bringing this up,” The woman retorted, bringing a grin to Emma’s lips.

“We’ve been _flirting_ , for God’s sake.”

“No, _you_ have been flirting.”

Emma shook her head. “You won’t marry me, but you want me to move in, and you don’t want me in your bed, but I still find you checking up my ass all the time. That’s a lot of mixed signals, you know.”

“I don’t do that...” She protested, “...all the time, anyway.” Regina sighed. “Don’t tell me it’s confusing. I’ve _told_ you this. We are having a child together, the lines get blurred. That’s precisely why I suggested we put up some barriers…” 

“Why don’t we just erase these lines?” Emma suggested in a low voice. She propped her cup over a sideboard and stepped a little closer. “It’s getting harder and harder to convince myself you’re indifferent to me, honestly.”

“It’s not…  I am not indifferent. I am not heartless.”

“You’re scarred,” Emma completed, raising a hand to brush her hair. 

“I’m only scared because I’m smart,” Regina retorted. “I am pregnant and everything is going ok. It’s… alright. That is already more than I could hope for.”

“Come on, Regina. You can’t tell me you think we being together would be just _too good to be true_.”

“No. Well, I don’t know," She said at last, averting her eyes. “I know how to keep a bed warm, Emma, sure. And I know you’d like to be back there, and back between my legs, this I know, too. And I am not indifferent to it either.”

“You know I am not just talking about sex.”

“You are talking about allurement. But this fades too.”

“I am talking about love.”

“I am _not_ a being of love,” Regina blurted. “I am not a being _for_ love.”

“Don’t say that. It’s not true.”

“It’s been the truth of my life.” She let the air out, eyes boring back into Emma’s. “I don’t expect you to understand. We are… essentially different. That’s why this might just work.” Regina touched her round belly. “More than that is just dangerous ambition.” 

“I am not giving up,” Emma told her. “I am moving in, I am standing by your side through delivery, and all the crying nights, and Henry’s going to college, and all the rest, until you see that we do have everything, _including_ each other.”

“Emma.” Regina took a deep breath, the way she did when she wanted to make it clear she was being dragged into a conversation she loathed. “Perhaps you should get on with the crib.”

Emma rubbed her eyes for a moment, unsure of what to do. Unsure of how to love someone who said things like _I’m not a being for love_. “Yeah, ok,” She said at last. “I’m finishing this in twenty.” 

Regina nodded as Emma fell back on her knees, sorting out some screws on the floor. She wondered what life under the same roof would be like. The ups and downs, the sweet and the bitter pains. She stood there a moment, watching as Emma moved around, fumbled with a toolbox, held her hair in a high and loose bun. After a minute, the woman looked up again, arching an eyebrow as she found Regina still there. “What is it?”

“What?”

“Why are you standing there watching me?” 

“I’m not,” Regina replied quickly, and immediately regretted as it came out defensive. “I am merely observing your method.” 

“Right.” Emma narrowed her eyes, and despite herself a tiny smirk curved her lips. “Do I look hot or something? Building our baby’s crib with my bare hands and stuff?”

“Aren’t we presumptuous,” Regina retorded, hoping her neck didn’t look as flushed as it felt. It must, though, as Emma’s grin widened.

“Is it the screwdriver?” She mocked, flexing her arm in a show-off way, the tool in her hand. “You know, I have a hammer too.” 

“Ok, I’m leaving now.”

“What about my method?” Emma called behind her, a laughter in her voice. 

“It clearly works,” She whispered before walking out. 

* * *

 

Once it started, it didn’t last an hour. 

It was 3:56 in the morning when Regina woke up drenched in fluid with a scorching pain traversing her lower belly and her mouth filled with the ferruginous taste of fear. Not a new taste, by all means, but one she hadn’t experimented in a while. After a moment, the contraction eased and the buzzing sound of an incoming call gave her a shiver. Regina turned slowly in bed and reached for her phone. 

“Regina?”

“Emma...” 

“I’m on my way. Don’t do anything silly; I’ll be there in ten.”

“I’ll do my best,” Regina retorted, acknowledging the bitterness had passed from her mouth to her words.  

“It’s gonna be ok,” Emma replied before the line went off.

Regina put the phone down. So Emma had felt it too. Maybe the echo of the pain that had woken her up, maybe this other feeling, this other sharp feeling. _You’re way too early, dear_ , she though, propping a hand on her belly. Her tighs felt slicky and warm, and a sour scent moisted the sheets. Regina snapped her fingers to get the lights on and set up slowly seconds before Henry slammed the door open.

“Mom?!”

“I’m alright, honey,” She said, sounding calm even to her own ears. A motherly ability. “It’s all fine, your mother shouldn’t have woken you up.” 

“She didn’t,” He replied, coming closer; close enough for Regina to notice his pale lips. “I had this weird… feeling. What’s going on?” 

“Agatha decided to join the party early,” Regina said, still calm, still not letting slip into her tone the dread that began pulsing on her temples.

“Oh, shoot. What do I do? Are you ok?” 

“I’m fine. Why don’t you get dressed and go open the door to your mother? She’s on her way.” 

“Mom, I think we should go to the hospital.” 

“We’ll go if we have to. Now go on, please.” 

Henry threw her a concerned glance before turning his back and walking out of the room. The acute pain on Regina’s venter seemed to roar and loom over her like a dark wave. Not a shine of light came from the windows, and underneath the blow of the heater, she felt the cold of a winter night. It had been snowing when she went to bed, and it didn’t seem to have stopped yet. 

She went through three more contractions before hearing steps climbing the stairs in a hurry. Emma ran into the room, her face flushed, muddy boots dripping snow into the floor. “It’s gonna be ok,” was the first thing she said, grabbing Regina’s hand in her cold fingers. “I’m gonna help you change and we’ll drive up to Castle Ro--”

“My water already broke.” 

“Yeah, ok… Ok, we still got time, it can take hours before...”

“Emma,” Regina interrupted, pressing Emma’s hand as another contraction made her lightheaded. “The baby will be born here.” 

“I know that was the plan, but it’s too early. Henry wasn’t born in Storybrooke and everything worked out. It’s gonna be--”

“Yes, I know! It’s gonna be ok! I’ll just think of rainbows and-- _god!_ ” Yes, she had been warned that it hurt. Regina Mills wasn’t strange to pain, not more than she was to fear. But this felt some kind of wrong. Emma took her hand in a tight grasp and they glowed together, sharing that overwhelming ache and making it barely bearable. 

All the color was gone from their faces when it faded. “She’s coming right now and I don’t want to have our baby in the backseat of your smelly car, in the middle of the road.”

“Well, lucky you, I just got an air freshener,” Emma replied, but they both knew Regina was right. They wouldn’t make it anywhere in that weather; the house, and Storybrooke, were the safest options now. “Ok, I have a plan. I’m gonna call our doctor and a bus, and then I’m gonna ask Henry to go pick up our doula. You take deep breaths and try to keep this rushy baby quiet a little longer, alright?”

“Yes, although your kids are known for being disobedients little brats.” 

“Love you too, mom,” Henry replied from the door. Regina looked up to find him in his coat and his boots and his alert position; just ready. Neither of them was sure for what yet. “At least I brought her to you,” He added, pointing towards Emma with his chin. 

“I once had a cat that brought scrawny birds into my bed as well,” She said, earning and eye roll from Emma. Their hands pressed tighter, glowing lavender as another contraction hit. 

“It’s gonna be ok,” Emma whispered afterwards, standing up. “We’ll be back in a minute.”

They left, and Regina breathed. She felt the warm flow of energy that Agatha ignited inside her; although today it felt more boiling than warm. Yet there it was, pulsing, stubborn, still coming, hurrying, hurting, but ever present. Nothing else mattered as much.

“Hey, how are you two holding up?” Emma asked as she stepped into the room again. “Dr. Montgomery is coming with a bus. I’m sure it won’t take too long; ambulance drivers know--”

“They won’t be here in time. It doesn’t matter,” Regina cut in. “You can keep Agatha warm, you can breath together if her lungs… You remember, I taught you the connection enchantment.”

“Her lungs will be fine. A million babies are born before due time everyday.”

“Yes, I’m sure that’s a very precise number,” Regina drawled. “Do you remember the enchantment or not?”

“Of course I do. Don’t worry about this. Agatha is fine.”

“My queen,” A new voice murmured from the entrance. Jackie Hall was bowing deeply at the door, besides a frowning Henry.

“Thank you for coming, Mrs. Hall. I understand it’s an ungodly hour.”

“The babies never seem to take that into consideration, my queen,” The woman smiled sheepishly, approaching the bed. “How are the contractions?” 

“Close, intense,” Emma replied. “Her water’s broken.”

“Alright. Let’s see where we stand, shall we, my queen? We talked about a waterbirth, are you still-- Oh,” Jackie paused once the thick blankets were out of the way. “She _is_ in a hurry.”

“Is that… blood?” Henry whispered. 

“It’s normal, dear, my water just broke. It’s not as neat as they make it look in fiction,” Regina said, though the look on Jackie’s face denied it. 

“Kid, why don’t you go downstairs and call your grandparents?” 

“I wanna be with my mom.” 

“It’s ok, Henry. They’ll want to be here when Agatha arrives,” Regina agreed, offering him a tight smile. “Call and wait for them downstairs, ok? Make some tea. Be a good boy.”

He closed his hands in fists, but then went on his way. Almost running, Regina noticed. She didn’t blame him. 

“How bad is it?” Regina turned to Jackie once Henry was out of earshot.

“It’s alright,” The woman lied slowly. “But you should call your doctor. The baby is early, and you’re already crowning. Just to be safe. You should…” 

“She’s already on her way,” Emma said. “And an ambulance, too. They’ll be here. It’s just, the roads…” 

“How bad _is_ it?” Regina repeated, and the doula looked up to find her eyes.

“You’re losing too much blood.”

“The baby. I want to know about the baby.”

“She’s in position. You’ll be pushing her out in a minute, my queen. She’s all ready to come into this world.”

“She is,” Regina agreed, grunting under her breath with the new surge of pain. “She has to be.”

Emma followed Jackie’s instructions to go after clean sheets, towels and water, and Regina tried to find a position in bed to bring her baby girl into the world. Cold sweat pooled in the base of her back, dampened her temples; she already felt lightheaded and everything was soon covered by a surrealistic glow. When Emma came back and held her hand again, her fingers felt strange against Regina’s - they felt warm. 

“Let’s go now, my queen,” Jackie said. “It’s time. Let’s bring her out. You can push.” 

She did push, although it felt like being ripped from the inside out. “Yeah, it sucks, it sucks, Jesus, I have no idea why you wanted this,” Emma muttered as Regina’s whole body contracted in pain.

“ _You're not helping!_ ” 

“The head is out!” Jackie announced. “One more push, now it’s easier, go on.”

“Come on,” Emma echoed. “You can do this. I can’t wait to meet her.”

The sudden surge of power lightened the room like a flash, and then there was a faint sense of relief that after so much pain felt almost like pleasure. A second went by, two seconds, and a scream finally filled the air, a cry so loud it seemed to crack the tense atmosphere of the room, and Agatha’s voice echoed through Regina’s whole body. 

“Oh, she’s perfect. She’s just perfect,” Jackie said, cleaning and wrapping her up with practiced hands. 

“Let me see her," Regina breathed. “I need to see her.” 

As the doula brough the crying baby into Regina’s waiting arms, Emma felt struck by a lightning; burned out and electrified. Agatha screamed, angry, almost, and beautifully, somehow. “I told you her lungs would be fine,” Emma said, making Regina snort really low amongst tears. They touched her tiny plump hands, with tiny fine nails, and the amazement was almost toxic.

“She’s so gorgeous,” Regina whispered.

“Yes, she is, she is just like you.”

“You should take her now.” It was hard to give her up, but her arms felt like rubber. She needed a moment to rest. Just a little moment to rest. Emma looked into her eyes for a second, the frown on her forehead deep as she stood up and looked frantically at the doula, who had made way back between Regina’s legs. 

“What’s going on? Why is she still...” Emma started, but the sight of Jackie’s bloodied hands and Regina’s bloodless face finished it. 

“She is going to be ok,” The doula said carefully. “I’m sure the ambulance is arriving any minute now, right?”

Emma’s heartbeat became a dull pulse in her head. The ambulance might be two hours away or twenty minutes; she could barely see it making a difference now. 

“Regina, I think we should go. We should try to meet them halfway or… Hand the baby back to Jackie. We have to--” 

“Emma,” Jackie called, covering Regina’s legs again, covering the increasing flux of dark blood. “Just… Let her hold her baby a little longer.”

That’s when she knew things were not going to be ok. 

“Just come here,” Regina said. 

“No! You’re bleeding out! I have to… We’re wasting time, we have to do something!” 

“You are wasting time. Come here.” It was an order this time, and Emma sat down by her side, trembling from head to toe. “Hold our baby.” 

“Mom?” Henry’s voice made her look up. He was by the door again, Mary Margaret and David behind him. He was almost catching up to his grandad's height, Regina noticed.

“Come meet your sister, dear. Let him hold her,” She told Emma. The only reason Emma’s knees didn’t give up when she stood was the kid in her arms. Henry was wide-eyed when she put the baby in his hands, but did not hesitate. He never did.

“She’s too small to be this loud,” He breathed, and Regina managed to snort, Emma had no idea how. 

“I think this of you to this day.”

Emma approached the bed again when the boy turned to introduce his sister to their grandparents. “Tell her about me, will you?” Regina said in a whisper. “She’ll hear a lot from other people, and I don’t… I don’t want her to only know the Evil Queen. Tell her… about the good stuff, too. There is some, isn’t there?”

“Why are you saying this? Don’t…” 

“It’s going to be fine, I promise,” She said. “I did too much… too much to earn a happy ending.”

“Regina. Stop. The doctor is arriving, you’re going to be fine.” 

“I am fine. Look at them…” Her voice was fainting; her eyelids felt so heavy. “We did this. I’m fine now.” As in response, Agatha began crying again, a heartfelt yelp in rough, unused voice. Emma leaned in closer to hold Regina’s face with her both hands. 

“Regina. Stay up. Please. Don’t sleep yet, just stay up a little longer, baby, please.” 

Emma could see she was trying to, and she could see it was a battle; a battle whose end was approaching rapidly. 

“We should go get help!” David was muttering behind them as Jackie told her parents about Regina’s condition. “Maybe Rumple, or… Blue, or… Is Frankestein in town?”

Agatha was still crying, and underneath it Emma could hear her own pulse pumping madly, and underneath it she could hear the scary silence of Regina’s breath slowing down. Time in Storybrooke had been frozen for twenty-eight years waiting for her to arrive and save everyone. Now it seemed to be overcompensating, running, flying, and Emma had no idea how to save the woman she loved. The woman she… 

And then she kissed her. Emma kissed Regina with all the fear and longing she had in her, but mostly, Emma kissed Regina with love. With true, heartbreaking love. Her magic buzzed between them, as alluring as ever, her heart thundering, and Regina parted her lips to absorb her taste and her love, and then they broke apart.

And nothing had changed. Regina looked as pale as a vampire, and exhausted, too. Emma kissed her again, barely earning a response this time, and again, and again, until it wasn’t a kiss anymore, just a prayer that nobody answered. 

“Why isn’t it working!” She yelled into a suddenly quiet room. “I love you. I love you so much. I love you so much, and you love me. I know you love me. Regina, please. I know you love me.” 

“I do,” She breathed into Emma’s lips, her cold hand barely brushing her face. 

“Then why isn’t it working?” 

The question echoed, sounding hollow. David and Mary Margareth had hurried out, chasing odd chances, for sure; at a distance, Emma seemed to hear a car igniting in the driveway. The doula sang a small prayer in the corner and Agatha made her little baby sounds. 

“It’s not a curse,” Henry answered, after a pause. He stood by the bed, his sister still in his arms, his dark eyes so big they made him look like the eleven-year-old that had dragged their mothers into this, in the first place. “It’s not a curse.”

No. No, Emma guessed it wasn’t, although it felt like one. It felt like a thousand curses. 

“It’s ok,” Regina told them. “You’ve been the love of my life.”

“No, Regina. Please, don’t sleep. Agatha needs her mom, she’s hungry, can’t you hear? Please.”

“Yes.” 

“Yes, just stay with me. Ok? Your doctor…”

“Yes,” She said, resting her hand on top of Emma’s, “I would have married you.” 

“You _will_ marry me,” Emma corrected. “It was never really a doubt, to be honest.”

Regina smiled at that. And then she closed her eyes. 


End file.
